


Good Morning To The New

by TheFlirtMeister



Category: IT (1990), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Eddie Didn't Grow Up With The Losers, Gen, Homophobic Language, M/M, Multi, OR IS THERE, There Is No Evil Killer Clown, There isn't, mini series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-17 18:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12371085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlirtMeister/pseuds/TheFlirtMeister
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak's plan was as followed:Check on his mother.Get his grandmother's wedding ring.Leave Derry as soon as possible.Then he walked into Richie Tozier's cafe, and that plan just went to shit.





	1. Rugelach

**Author's Note:**

> i've been obsessed with adult richie/eddie since i watched the miniseries years ago, so here, have the classic coffee shop au

It was raining hard by the time that Eddie arrived in Derry, the kind of rain that thunders down without any sign of stopping. Eddie’s shoes squelched as he walked, trying to avoid puddles, but by then, the entire street had turned to water. There was a wind too, and Eddie’s umbrella soon became useless, turned inside out and struggling to fly away.

He spotted the bright lights of an open coffee shop a little way away, and changed his course from his mother’s house, to this bright beacon. At the back of his mind, he realised he really didn’t want to go to his mother’s house, but he pushed it far back, and pretended that he didn’t want to arrive at her home soaking wet. She would worry too much.

The bell on the door didn’t ring as Eddie burrowed his way inside the shop, more loudly proclaimed his arrival. Eddie cringed, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could, and then surveyed the place. It was smaller than he expected, intimate, he supposed, and there were pictures of famous comedians all over the walls. Over the counter there was a photograph of a girl with bright red hair, who Eddie assumed was the owner

“Hullo!” A voice from the back called, “Be right with you!”

Eddie bit his lip at such a friendly voice, and then shook his umbrella out onto the floor mat. He then carefully placed it in the umbrella stand, and then shook off his caramel coloured coat. It had been an extravagant purchase, and Myra had berated him for it.

Eddie sighed at the prospect of Myra. The whole reason he was in Derry was because he wanted to ask his mother for his grandmother’s wedding ring, for he wished to propose to Myra. Well, he didn’t wish to. Truth be told, he didn’t like Myra very much, but he had no other choice.

“Well look at you, fancy pants!”

Eddie turned to find a man behind the counter. He was tall, with dark auburn hair, and a huge pair of spectacles that completely took over his face. He also had an awful ginger moustache that Eddie disliked on sight. Things got caught in moustache’s, dirt and bits of food. It was a germaphobe’s nightmare.

“I haven’t seen you before.” The man said, grinning. “Nice shirt.”

Eddie looked down at his shirt, pale baby blue, a colour that his mother said looked good on him. “Thank you.” He said awkwardly.

“What’ll it be?” The man asked, his eyes still roving over Eddie’s face, in a curious way, not an unkind way. “We’ve got all sorts, something hot to warm you up? We got tea, and coffee, and pastries that Stan makes. They’re kosher too, if you’re Jewish.”

“I’m not Jewish.” Eddie said.

“Neither am I.” The man said, “But luckily Stan doesn’t mind.”

He pulled away from where he was leaning against the counter and grinned at Eddie. “So! What will it be?”

“Uh.” Eddie said, and stepped closer to look at the board. “I-“

“You’ve got rain water all over your glasses.” The man said, “Here,”

He reached out and took Eddie’s glasses from his face. Eddie jolted, the man’s fingers had brushed his skin, and he felt his entire face go red as the man cleaned his glasses with a spectacle cloth.

“There we go.” The man replaced them back on Eddie’s face, and Eddie’s heart flip-flopped. “Now you can read.”

“Thank you.” Eddie said, and looked back at the board to disguise the fact that he was so flustered. “Coffee, please.”

“What kind?”

“Normal flat white?” Eddie asked, “But if you don’t do that, I can drink something else.”

“Of course we do flat whites, we’re not heathens.” The man said, scribbling it down on a notepad. “Anything to eat?”

“I’m good thank you.”

“Oh, come on! You have to eat a pastry, it’s the rules of Richie’s Records.”

“Richie’s…. Records?” Eddie asked slowly, and looked about. In the corner there were a few vinyl’s on the wall, but nothing for sale.

“Yeah, this used to be a record shop.” The man scratched his chin, “But it did shit. So now it’s my café, and it still does shit, but it’s a lot more enjoyable experience to run.”

“Oh, you own this place?” Eddie asked, and the man nodded.

“Yup! I’m Richie.” He stuck out his hand and Eddie shook it carefully. “You gonna tell me your name or do I have to wheedle it out of you?”

“Oh!” Eddie said, “I’m Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you Eds.” Richie said.

“I don’t like the nickname Eds.” Eddie told him, and Richie pouted.

“It’s a cute nickname.”

“Still...” Eddie said awkwardly, but Richie shrugged it off like it was nothing.

“Eh, people have their own preferences. And just for that, you’re getting a free pastry. Pick quickly Eddie.”

“I’ll have a,” Eddie picked wildly from the board. “Ruge-lach?”

“Wonderful!” Richie scribbled it down on his pad and then slapped it on the counter. “One flat white and one rugelach for the boy with the nice coat. Sit down anywhere, we don’t charge, and I’ll bring it over to you.”

“Okay.” Eddie said, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Richie replied, a twinkle in his eye, and Eddie looked down at the ground.

Eddie found himself a table by the window where he could look out onto the street. It was still raining, and he took comfort in being inside somewhere warm, where the people were friendly. He shot a glance over at the counter, but Richie had disappeared into a back room.

The man was…. Interesting. Eddie knew that he was the slightest bit attracted to him, but he pushed the feeling back. Having feelings for men was wrong. Especially men with awful moustaches like Richie’s. As well as that, there was that photograph of a girl on the wall. Perhaps she was Richie’s girlfriend? Perhaps the man that Richie mentioned, Stan or Steve, was Richie’s boyfriend. Eddie didn’t have a chance.

The bell loudly proclaimed that someone else was coming into the café, and Eddie looked over to see. It was a man, who had the look of someone who had once been quite big, and was also soaked from the rain.

“Richie!” He yelled, “I’m drowning to death out here.”

“I’m coming!” Richie yelled back, and appeared from the back room carrying a plate on which several pastries lay. “Give me a break Haystack.”

“Fuck you,” Said Haystack, and leaned across the counter to flick Richie on the nose. “Mike’s been calling me all day, he’s excited about the weather.”

“Why is he excited about the weather?” Richie asked, turning to press buttons on the coffee machine.

“Apparently it’s the heaviest rainfall in Derry for years.” Haystack says, leaning against the counter. “He’s writing it up in that book of his.”

“I love our little nerd.” Richie said, “Hey, have you spoken to Bev?”

Haystack shifted suddenly, “Why?”

“She’s putting her Dad in a home.” Richie said, and Haystack spat on the floor so violently that Eddie jumped. “Hey! Those are my nice clean floors Ben.”

“Like you cleaned them.” Haystack, now Ben, said.

“Well no, Stan did, but the anger still stands.” Richie said, placing the cup of coffee and the plate on a tray. “But yeah, putting her Dad in a home. The only problem is, what’s she gonna do with the house? Sell it? Keep it? She’s in a state. And no, that isn’t an excuse for you to go running and comfort her.”

“Beep beep Richie.” Ben said, a little weary, and Richie picked up the tray.

“I get it. Anyway, I’ve got customers. Sit down, I’ll make you a drink in a moment.”

Richie weaved his way through the chairs and tables until he reached Eddie, placing the tray down neatly in front of him. Eddie looked at the steaming cup of coffee, and the little finger pastries laid out neatly and smiled.

“Sorry about him.” Richie said, nodding in the direction of Ben, who had sat down at a table. “My friends don’t seem to understand that I do actually work here, and don’t have time to gab to them all the time.”

“It’s okay.” Eddie said, “It must be nice, to have your friends constantly coming in and talking to you.”

“I guess.” Richie said, “But anyway! Enjoy your food, come up to the counter and pay when you’re done, or do a runner, whatever suits you best.”

“I promise I won’t run without paying.” Eddie promised, and Richie laughed.

“Yeah, I bet you wouldn’t.” He said, and lifted his hand as if to ruffle Eddie’s hair, and then thought against it. “Enjoy your food Eds.”

“Eddie.” Eddie corrected, but found he didn’t mind all that much.

The coffee was hot, warming Eddie right down to his toes, and the pastries were sweet, cream cheese filled things with warm cinnamon and sultanas. Eddie tried to pace himself, but he was tired, and everything was so good, and he finished before he knew it.

He still had time to spare, and it was still raining, so he sat back in his chair, resting his hands over his stomach, and listened to the people talk. Mainly it was about the rain, and the state of Derry, which was a little boring, so he focussed on Richie and Ben, who were chatting in the corner.

“She needs an insurance agent.” Ben was saying, Richie mopping up the floor where Ben had spat.

“She needs a better father.” Richie said, “But that too. The house needs to be looked at, get it quoted, then she can work out what to do with it.”

“You think Bill would buy it off her?” Ben asked. “He’s rich and ugly enough.”

“Pot kettle.” Richie said, but shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s not as into him as you think.”

Ben dropped his head onto the table. “What does Bill have that I don’t?”

“A steady career? Better hair? The ability not to stalk a girl for his entire childhood?”

“Beep beep Richie.” Ben said, and Richie flicked mop water at him.

  Eddie checked his watch and realised he better get going. His mother would worry if he was late, so it was better to arrive half an hour early. He neatly tidied up all his cutlery and plates onto the tray, and then took it with him to the counter. And then he paused.

He could help this girl, Beverly, that they were talking about. He was going to be in Derry for a couple of days, why not help out this girl who seemingly needed an insurance agent desperately?

Eddie walked over to the table where the two men were talking, and cleared his throat.

“If you’re doing a runner, it’s a particularly slow one.” Richie said, grinning, and Eddie smiled nervously.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help hearing about your friend. She needs a quote on a property, for someone to take a look at it?”

Richie and Ben exchanged glances. Eddie continued hurriedly.

“Well I’m an insurance agent, I specialise in these things. And I’m in Derry on personal matters, but I- I could help you, I think.”

“You’re serious?” Ben asked, “You could help us out?”

“Sure.” Eddie said, “I mean, if you don’t want my help, that’s fine, you could find someone else-“

“Eddie you beautiful angel.” Richie said, “If I knew you well enough I’d kiss you.”

“Well there’s no need for that.” Eddie said quickly, and then pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “Here, if I give you my business card, it has my home number on, and you can call me when you need me, okay?”

Richie took the business card from Eddie, turning it over in his fingers. “Edward Kaspbrak.” He said slowly, and looked up at Eddie. “Very professional.”

“This is honestly very nice of you.” Ben said, and reached across to shake Eddie’s hand. “Thank you. Bev will be thrilled to have someone on her side.”

“It’s honestly no bother.” Eddie promised, “I need to go now, so I’ll pay for the meal, and-“

“Nonsense.” Richie said, “It’s on the house.”

Eddie blinked. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

“Seriously.” Richie caught his gaze and held it there for a couple of seconds. “You’ve helped us out so much, you have no idea. Take a free meal, it’s barely enough.”

“Oh.” Eddie said, and then tucked his wallet away. “Thank you Richie.”

“It’s no problem Eds.” Richie said, and smiled. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Eddie said, turning to fetch his coat and umbrella. He was happy that he’d done a good thing today, that he’d helped people out in need.

“Hey Eddie.” Richie called, and Eddie looked over his shoulder. “I’ll message you soon.”

“That’s fine with me.” Eddie said, and had the feeling that Richie didn’t mean just in relation to business.

Out on the street, the rain had started to clear up a bit. Eddie found a nearby phone box and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The air was hot, and Eddie fed his coins into the machine and then phoned his mother’s number.

“Eddie?” She answered at once. “Is that you? Are you safe?”

“I’m fine Ma.” Eddie said, leaning against the glass. “I just wanted to let you know I was on my way to your house.”

“I’m so pleased.” She said, and then her tone changed, “Why are you coming up here again?”

Eddie opened his mouth, and then paused. “Can’t a son visit his mother?” He asked, and she hummed.

“I suppose not. I’ll see you soon Edward. Mother loves you.”

“I love you too Ma.” Eddie said, and placed the phone down.

Derry was going to be a lot more interesting than he expected.


	2. Mould

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've changed up eddie's mother a bit
> 
> also what is time lines omg

Eddie’s mothers house was exactly as he remembered. It was like being stuck in a time warp, Eddie half expecting to hear the radio blaring about the atomic bomb, and his mother fussing about him playing outside all the time.

“I’m home Ma!” He called, as he stepped over the threshold. “It’s me, Eddie!”

“Edward?!” His mother replied from the living room, her voice shaky.

Eddie stepped over the lump in the carpet that his father once told him was the body of his dead older brother, and walked towards the sound of her voice. The hallway was dusty, which surprised him, as normally it would have been spotlessly clean.

His mother was sitting in her favourite chair by the window, but if Eddie had wandered into the living room without expecting her there, he wouldn’t have noticed her. Her brown dress matched the brown furniture, even with the plastic wrap on top, and she was deathly still, exactly like a corpse.

“Hello Ma.” Eddie said, bending down to kiss her on the cheek. Her skin was wrinkled, like a peach.

“You’ll catch your death of cold.” She said, frowning at him. “Take off all your clothes, I laid out new things upstairs for you.”

“Can’t I sit down and talk with you? I haven’t seen you in ages.” Eddie asked, and she studied him for a moment.

“You got tall.” She said, as if it was his own fault.

“I’ve always been this tall Ma. Since I was 18.” He replied.

At university they used to call him Beanpole, or beans, because he was tall and skinny, like a twig. One of the girls who he lived with, Sue, said that she often mistook him for a tree. Then they all made jokes about felling him, and whether there were nests of birds in his hair.

“You’re just like your father, you know?” His mother said. “He was tall. And look where that got him.”

“I know Ma.” Eddie sat down on the sofa and it creaked underneath him. “Dead in the ground. 29 years this September.”

“Exactly.” His mother nodded firmly, as if all tall people are destined to die. “Exactly.”

There was a long moment of silence, punctuated by the ticking of a clock. Eddie looked about the room. It was full of his mother’s knick-knacks, all the strange things she’s collected over the years, and the things that his father collected, that she still hasn’t the heart to get rid of. There’s a photo of his parent’s wedding day on the mantle, and then a photograph of him at 7, and then finally, his graduation photo. It’s like his life stopped the moment he got his diploma.

“You’re going to ruin the sofa with your trousers. Wet stains leather.” His mother said, peering at him.

Eddie nodded and stood upright. “I’ll go get changed. Take my suitcase up as well.”

“Everything’s in your bedroom. Your aunt wanted me to change it, make it into a guest bedroom, but I said no, everything’s got to be the same. What if Eddie comes back for good?” His mother was talking to herself more than Eddie, but he still replied.

“I’m not staying here for good Ma. I have a life back home.”

“Yes, yes, I know. With Myrtle.”

“Myra.” Eddie corrected.

“Myra.” His mother repeated, mumbling the word around her mouth. Then she looked up sharply. “You haven’t got her pregnant, have you Eddie?!”

Eddie almost laughed at the absurdness of it all, that he was a grown man being accused of getting his long-time girlfriend pregnant. “No. Definitely not.”

He and Myra haven’t had sex in months. It felt like a chore rather than recreational pleasure, with the way that Myra clambered on top of him, and how her mouth felt against his. Eddie always felt uncomfortable around her afterwards for hours, days at a time.

“I’m glad.” His mother reached out and touched him on the leg. “You mustn’t have sex out of wedlock.”

“I know.” Eddie said, lying, “I promise I haven’t.”

“My good boy.” His mother crowed happily, and Eddie had to turn and leave the room.

His bedroom was as cold and unfeeling as he remembered it to be. The bed is too small for him, the wallpaper faded. There were a few blue tack marks from where he had stuck photos of film stars, but then his mother had spotted them and made him take them off. There’s also still a mark on the carpet from where Eddie once dropped a lit cigarette when he was 16, trying to see what this smoking thing was all about. He still can’t smell cigarettes without becoming anxious, even now.

The outfit laid out on the bed was comically awful. The trousers are the colour of bird shit, and the shirt is a pastel yellow. His mother has even set out underwear, white boxers and matching socks. Eddie would make fun of it, but he just feels sorry for her, the image of her carefully laying out each piece of clothing for her adult son.

Eddie changed quickly, careful not to look at his body in the mirror. If you looked up Eddie in the dictionary it would come under the description of ‘awkward’. Even Myra teases him about it, the way he always looks out of place, at home, or on the street. The only place he feels comfortable is at work, where he can throw himself into something, and nobody talks to him.

Once he’s finished getting dressed, Eddie sits down on the bed. It groans underneath the weight of a grown man, and Eddie spreads his hands out over the duvet, feeling its coldness. He doesn’t expect Richie will go home to a child’s bedroom, he will go home to a loud and vibrant house, full of happy people, and friends.

But he shouldn’t be thinking about Richie. Their relationship was one of business, that of a café owner and a customer, and also one of a client and an insurance agent. Nothing more.

Eddie stood up and took his almost dry clothes to the bathroom to give himself something to do. There was a clothes horse already up, and he carefully laid out his clothes on it, before checking his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“Hello Eddie.” He said to himself, and watched his reflection repeat it back to him, in a slow sad sort of way.

When he came back downstairs, his mother was exactly where he left her. She didn’t look up when he sat down on the sofa, and for a moment he honestly thought she was dead, before she opened her mouth to speak.

“Are you taking your medication?” She asked.

Eddie nodded. “Every day, without fail.”

“I worry about you Eddie.” She turned to look at him, her pale watery eyes meeting his own. “You’re so thin. Do you need to take vitamins?”

“I think I’m just thin Ma.” Eddie replied. “I can’t change my genetics.”

She huffed. “Maybe you have diabetes. Diabetes medication, if we put you on it, would help you gain weight fast.”

“I haven’t got diabetes.” Eddie told her gently. “I’ve been tested.”

“But you’re so thin…”

“How about I make dinner tonight then?” Eddie suggested, “To prove that I’m eating. And I’m sure you’d like a decent meal too. How about it Ma?”

She studied him carefully, and then her head rolled over to the side, looking at nothing. “I make all my food in bulk. There’s nothing in the fridge.”

“I’ll go shopping for you then.” Eddie suggested, more in the hope that he could get out of the house.

“I don’t like the bar codes touching my food.” She said, and Eddie ran his hands through his hair.

“I’ll make sure the bar codes don’t touch your food.” He said, “I’ll type in the numbers myself, promise.”

She was silent for a while. Eddie startled to settle back into the sofa, in the realisation that she would never change her name, and then suddenly, his mother nodded.

“Okay.” She said, “If you promise you won’t let the radiation scanners touch your things.”

“I promise.” Eddie said, with the thrill of a man about to leave an uncomfortable situation. “Don’t worry Ma.”

A new supermarket had popped up in the same neighbourhood, close enough that Eddie could walk there. There were no plastic bags in the house for which to take with him, but he figured they’d sell bags there.

It was nice to be in a modern place. The supermarket was lit with bright lights, and everything was brightly coloured, adverts everywhere. Eddie actually breathed a sigh of relief at being in Derry that was distinctly un-Derry, which must have made him look like a mad man to everyone else.

He was in the cheese aisle looking for cheddar to grate into some macaroni and cheese when he heard arguing. Looking over to the butter section, there were two people having a domestic dispute over whether to buy unsalted butter or salted butter.

“It’s healthier.” The man, who had incredibly curly hair said. “We need to eat healthy.”

“But it tastes better Uris.” The man, who was black, said. He was clutching a tub of salted butter protectively to his chest, like it was baby he was rescuing from a fire.

“But you’re going to die of a heart attack at 50.” Uris said, trying to take the butter off him.

“Fuck you, I’m going to live forever with my salty butter.” The man hugged his butter even more tightly.

The other man, Uris, sighed, looking away from his friend, and his eyes caught on Eddie who was staring at him. There was a beat, and then Uris stood up straighter.

“Hey, you! Give me your butter opinions.”

Eddie froze, caught in the headlights. “My what?”

“Your butter opinions.” Uris nodded over at his friend. “He wants salted, and I want unsalted. What do you think we should buy?”

“What are you using the butter for?” Eddie asked.

“Just for everyday use, like bread and stuff.” Uris tilted his head to one side, “So?”

“Unsalted?” Eddie offered, and Uris’ eyes lit up in delight.

“See?!” He exclaimed, turning to the other. “Mike, you see?! This man agrees with me.”

“You’re both incredibly boring.” Mike said, but he put his butter back on the shelf, picking up an unsalted tub. “I’m living the best life.”

“Idiot.” Uris said, rolling his eyes. “Thanks for your help by the way.”

“No problem.” Eddie replied, and left without taking any cheddar, because he was anxious and didn’t want to be in the situation anymore that he had to be.

Eddie and his mother ate dinner in the ancient dining room, in complete silence. The dining room hadn’t been used since the last time Eddie forced them to eat dinner there as a family, and there were cobwebs all over the lampshades. Eddie is itching to get cleaning, to make this place a home rather than a mausoleum. He wonders idly what Beverly’s home will be like.

“Do you like the macaroni and cheese?” Eddie asked his mother as she pushed the pasta around the place.

“It’s tolerable.” She replied, “My version is better. Your father always liked my macaroni and cheese. Where is he?”

Eddie looked at her over the top of his glasses. His mother looked confused, staring at the empty place setting, and Eddie placed the fork down on the corner of his plate.

“Ma, he’s been dead for a very long time now.” He said gently, and she dragged her eyes away from the plate and up to his face.

“What?” She asked, and Eddie reached across to take hold of her hand. He was just about to touch her skin when she jumped, and snatched her hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” She snapped. “I don’t know where it’s been.”

Eddie withdrew his hand, placing it back on his lap. “Okay.” He said quietly. “Okay.”

They continued to eat dinner in silence.


	3. Beverly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if the tense goes weird at any point, im so rusty at writing in 3rd person past tense

Richie called in the middle of Eddie’s cleaning spree, when he was up to his wrists in soap suds. He was methodically cleaning every plate and serving dish they own, as his mother had been living out of Tupperwear containers for god knows how long.

He answered the phone in the hallway, water dripping onto his shoes below. “Hello, this is the Kaspbrak residence, how may I help you?”

“Uh, Eddie there?”

Eddie blinked at Richie’s voice. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Christ, your phone voice is posh.” Richie said, relaxing. “I honestly thought you were the butler or something.”

“Ha ha.” Eddie said, “Why are you calling?”

“Well I spoke to my friend Beverly, that’s the girl with the house, didn’t know if you remembered, and she’s says it’s fine to come round today and look over the place.”

“That’s great!” Eddie said, and then worried he was coming off as too enthusiastic. “I mean, that’s fine. I’ll see if I’m free today, to come over.”

“I mean, if you’re seeing family and stuff, we can make it another day?” Richie asked, and Eddie shakes his head, soap suds flying everywhere.

“Let me check my diary.” He said, and held the phone away from his ear, pretending to be looking at a calendar. “Hm, nope, free all day today. In fact, I’m just doing some cleaning.”

“Let me guess, yellow marigolds?” Richie teased, and Eddie flushed because Richie had got him down to a T already.

“Pink actually.” He replied, “Or is yellow what you’re into?”

Richie gave a bark of laughter, and Eddie wanted to giggle like a teenage girl. “Yeah, I only date guys who wear yellow washing up gloves.” Richie joked, and then suddenly sighed. “Hang on.”

Richie obviously tried to cover the speaker with his hand but Eddie could still hear speech leaking through. It’s a girls voice, casual and lilting.

“Who you talking to?”

“The guy whose coming to look at the house.” Richie replied.

“Oh,” The girl said, knowingly, “The cute one?”

“Beep beep Beverly.” Richie said, and the girl, Beverly, laughed.

“Doesn’t work on me Trashmouth.” She said, “Is he coming over today?”

“Yup. You will be graced by his presence, don't you worry.”

“Tell him I can’t wait to see him!”

“Sure will.” Richie said, and then took his hand away from the phone. “Sorry, my best friend is being a nuisance.”

“It’s fine.” Eddie said, slightly strangled from being called cute. “I can come over today, around 1?”

“Excellent!” Richie said enthusiastically. “Alright, let me tell you the address. You got a pen?”

“Uh,” Eddie said “Give me two seconds, let me put you on hold.”

He placed the phone down, and rushed into the living room to find a pen and paper. His mother looked up from where she was staring off into space and frowned at him.

“What are you doing Edward?”

“Just grabbing a pen and paper Ma.” Eddie answered, searching through the filing cabinet. “Don’t worry.”

“Who are you talking to on the phone?”

“Nobody.” Eddie replied, finding a pen, and then seconds later, a note pad. “Don’t mind me Ma.”

“Edward-“ She started, but Eddie had already left the room, and was flying back to the phone.

“I’m back,” He said, breathless. “Richie?”

“You’re fast.” Richie remarked, “Alright, let me hit you with it.”

Richie reeled off an address that Eddie must make him repeat twice for him to catch it all. It’s not too far away from Eddie’s family house, a quick bike ride, or a medium length walk. Eddie doesn’t even know where his old childhood bike went, probably sold for scrap metal or something.

“That’s great,” Eddie said, once he’s finally got down the zip code. “I’ll be over in an hour or so.”

“Don’t let me distract from your cleaning.” Richie said, joking around, and Eddie laughed.

“You won’t.” He said, “See you in a bit Richie.”

“See you Eds. Sorry, Eddie.” Richie corrected himself, and Eddie smiled as he puts down the phone.

“Who was that?” His mother asked, appearing from behind him, and Eddie jumped out of his skin, turning around.

“A friend.” Eddie said, “I’m doing some work for him today. I need to go visit.”

“A friend?” She repeated, “What friend? In Derry? You don’t have any friends?”

“I do now Ma.” Eddie said patiently. “I won’t be gone for very long, I’ll be back around dinner.”

“Back around _dinner?_ ” She asked, “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be fine Ma!” Eddie said, already turning to go up the stairs to fetch his bag. “Don’t worry!”

“I always worry about you Edward!” She called after him, and Eddie shook his head and carried on.

Beverley's house looked like it had shrivelled up and died one day, and everyone else on the street had just ignored it. It’s a dark and ugly thing, and Eddie can understand why she apparently has no idea what to do with it.

The doorbell is encrusted with grime, so Eddie knocked on the wooden door with his knuckles, and then wiped his hand on his trousers. He can feel the dust and dirt entering his lungs, and he was scrabbling for his inhaler when the door opened.

“Hello there!” Said the girl whose photograph was on the wall at Richie’s café. “Eddie right?”

Eddie nodded, taking a burst of his inhaler. His cheeks were burning, and he took another, before putting the inhaler away. “Sorry, asthma. And yes, I’m Eddie. You must be Beverly?”

“Tell me about it, this place is disgusting.” Beverly rolled her eyes, “And yes, that’s me! Beverly Marsh.”

“It’s nice to meet you Miss Marsh.” Eddie said, but Beverly waved her hand.

“Please, just call me Beverly. Nobody calls me Miss Marsh, not even the milk man.” She held the door open for him, gesturing for him to come inside. “Richie tell you anything about me?”

“Not really.” Eddie said, stepping over the threshold. “Only that you didn’t know what to do with the house, something about your father?”

“Uh.” Beverly said, in a disgusted tone of voice. “Yes. He’s going into a home with a capital H, so I have the house, and as you can see, it’s a shithole.”

She spun around on the spot, her hands up in the air. “Tah dah! What are you thinking, bulldozer or controlled explosion?”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “You can always fix something up that’s destroyed.”

“Really?” Beverly asked, raising her eyebrow. “You honestly think we can do up this place?”

“Well I’ll have to look around,” Eddie said, “And then I can think about how much this place might be worth, and if you should hang onto it under insurance, or if you should sell it, and how exactly to do that.”

“Well look at you Mr Fancy.” Beverly said, leaning against a rickety table, but she was smiling. “You really know your stuff, huh?”

“I went to university.” Eddie replied with a shrug, “All I know I learnt from books and other people.”

“Which is the best kind of smart.” Beverly said, and then raised her hands up as if she’d forgotten something important. “I’m a shit host, oh god! Do you want tea? Coffee? I got crisps if you want some?”

“I’ll just have a glass of water thank you.” Eddie said politely, “Unless of course you wanted to make a pot of coffee or tea?”

“Let’s have tea.” Beverly said, walking off into a separate room, and Eddie followed her. “I always feel like a proper adult when I have tea, don’t you?”

“I- I guess?” Eddie said, as Beverly filled up the kettle with water from the tap. He didn’t know what else to say, but after Beverly switched the kettle on, she spun around to face him.

“So,” She said, “Why are you in Derry?”

“I’ve come to visit my mother.” Eddie said awkwardly, “She had something I needed.”

“What did you need?” Beverly asked.

“A ring.” Eddie said, just as the kettle whistled.

Beverly raised her eyebrows. “A ring?” She asked, and Eddie fidgeted.

“It’s nothing big- Nothing important.” He said, and turned away, “So, uh, how did you meet Richie?”

“We’ve been friends since Richie wore milk bottle glasses and could only do one impression.” Beverly said, dropping a tea bag into two mugs and then filling them with boiling water. “We grew up around here.”

“So did I.” Eddie said, and Beverly looked at him. “I was, uh, home schooled. I was sick a lot as a kid.”

“Ah.” Beverly said, pouring milk into the tea. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” Eddie said. “Look at me now! University and everything.”

Beverly laughed and handed him the mug of tea. “You’re a catch.” She said, and laughed when Eddie shot her a worried look. “Don’t worry. You’re not my type.”

“Is Richie your type?” Eddie asked, toeing a line, and Beverly laughed.

“Nope.” She said, “Not one bit.”

“Then what is your type?”

“Definitely not boys like Richie.” She grinned, just as the front door unlocked, and then opened.

“Honey, I’m home!” Richie called, and Beverly took a long swig of tea before replying.

“In here, darling dearest!” She replied, and Richie appeared in the doorway, carrying a shopping bag.

“Beverly!” He announced, and then grinned at Eddie. “And Eds!”

“I told you not to call me that.” Eddie said, and Richie laughed.

“Yeah, but I never listen to anything my friends say.” Richie dumped the bag on the counter and turned to them. “So, what do you think of the house? Isn’t it the pits?”

“I haven’t had a proper look round yet.” Eddie said, “But I think if you did it up nice, you’d have a good money earner on your hands. Then you could afford to pay for your Dad’s health care bills or whatever.”

“Or we could throw a massive party now that your father is locked up in a nursing home.” Richie suggested, and Beverly laughed.

“That sounds like the better option.” She said. “God I hate that bastard. Eddie, how about you?”

“Me?” Eddie asked, “Do I hate your father?”

“No, silly.” Beverly waved her hand. “Your parents. What are they like?”

“My father died of cancer when I was 5.” Eddie said, “And my mother is a hypochondriac.”

“Shit.” Richie said. “I’m sorry Eddie.”

Eddie shrugged. “I’m used to it. What about your parents?”

“Eh, my parents think I’m a little shit, but I am.” Richie said, and stole Beverley's mug of tea.

She gave a yelp of anger, hitting his stomach lightly, but not unkindly. Richie took a gulp of the tea and then set it down, running his tongue over his moustache. Eddie cringed.

“Can I take a look around the house?” He asked, eager to get out of the cramped kitchen with Richie.

“Of course!” Beverly said. “Do you need me to walk around with you, or are you good on your own?”

“I’m good on my own.” Eddie promised. “I’ll see you back here.”

“Have fun.” Richie said, and winked at Eddie.

Eddie felt his face go bright red as he walked away, and for some reason, he knew the two of them were looking at him and smiling, even if he didn’t turn around to check.

 


	4. Steak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its dem boys

The house would be fine, Eddie decided, standing in what he assumed was Beverley's old bedroom. It just needed to be redecorated, more the outside than the inside, and then it would be a pretty good house. From what Beverley said, she won’t want to keep the house, but it’ll be easy enough to figure out mortgages, price, and then move on from there.

He wasn't sure what Richie and Beverley's deal is. They’re nice, and funny, and they tease each other constantly. Perhaps they’re exes of some sort, Eddie wouldn’t be surprised. He didn't really know how normal relationships worked.

“You alright hon?!” Beverly yelled from downstairs, and Eddie jumped.

“Fine- I’m fine!” He called back, and scribbled down some nonsense on his pad. “Coming!”

He took the stairs quickly, almost bumping into Beverly who stands at the bottom, holding two glasses of wine. She smiled at him, offering him one of the glasses.

“Sorry, we’ve moved on from tea.” She said, taking a sip. “Richie left a little while ago, he needed to pick something up.”

“Oh.” Eddie said.

“So, thoughts?” Beverley asked, admiring her glass.

“The wine?” Eddie asked, taking a sniff. “Smells wine-y.”

Beverly laughed, and Eddie noticed the wine had stained her teeth. “This is why I like you.” She said, and then motioned with her hand. “What do you think of the house?”

“Honestly?” Eddie asked, and she nodded. “It’s a nice house. If you put some work and time in it, you’ve got a good source of money, to sell or to live in.”

“I’m selling it.” Beverly said firmly, “I have my own apartment, I don’t need this place.”

She kicked the staircase, more out of disgust than anger. Eddie took a sip of wine, and waited for Beverly to speak again.

“Richie wants to know if you want to come over for dinner?” Beverly said, and Eddie blinked.

“What?” He asked, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah!” Beverly said, “I mean, you’re helping me out, which means you’re helping Richie out, which basically means you’re helping out all of the Losers Club.”

“The Losers Club?” Eddie asked, “Is that you two and Ben?”

Beverley's eyes lit up. “Yeah, Ben! We’ve got this group of friends since we were children, and we call ourselves the Losers Club. Mainly because we’re all losers.”

Eddie smiled. “Well then I definitely could be part of that club.”

Beverly laughed and hit Eddie on the arm. “You’re adorable.” She said, “But anyway. Dinner? Now?”

Eddie nodded, “That’s great for me.”

“Wonderful!” Beverly drained her glass in one and then set it down on the table. “Drink up darling, I’m driving.”

“But you just drank-“

“Live a little Edward.” Beverly whispered, leaning in close, and Eddie realised that death comes to all of us, no matter how hard you try and prevent it, and knocked back his glass.

Beverly drove like a maniac, but it was fun. Eddie ended up cackling with laughter as they weaved in and out of traffic, some awful 80’s song blaring from the radio. Beverly had both car windows open, and the wind rushing through the car made her hair fly out behind her. She looked beautiful, and Eddie couldn’t help but smile at her.

“What?” She asked, looking over at him as they pulled up to traffic lights. “Don’t start having a crush on me, I can’t deal with bullshit like that right now.”

“I don’t fancy you.” Eddie said, and crossed his fingers over his heart. “Promise you.”

“Good.” Beverly said, “Because if you did, I’d throw you out of this car.”

“Does Richie fancy you?” Eddie asked, and Beverly laughed.

“Fuck no. We’re just friends. Sometimes he literally forgets I’m a girl.”

Eddie stared at her. “But you’re so…. Womanly?”

“I know right?” Beverly exclaimed, “I’ve got tits and everything, and still he forgets. Which is weird, because Richie will sleep with anything that moves, and I’ve seen it. In the flesh.”

“Gross.” Eddie says.

“Exactly.” Beverly tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “I used to sometimes spend weekends at his place, and he’d bring girls back home, and I’d have to listen to them fucking.”

“That’s disgusting.” Eddie said. And then. “Why did you spend weekends at his house?”

“My father was an unbearable man.” Beverly said. “Is an unbearable man. I don’t even know any more.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie said.

“God you’re adorable, you know that?” Beverly said, “You don’t have to apologise.”

“I feel like I have to apologise.” Eddie said, “Even though it’s not my fault.”

“Cute.” Beverly said, and reached across and brushed his cheek with her knuckle.

Eddie leaned into the touch and they stayed there for a couple of seconds before Beverly spoke up again.

“God, my life is a mess right now.”

“Want to talk about it?” Eddie asked, propping up his head on his hand.

“Nah.” Beverly shrugged. “Just family stuff. And friend stuff. But soon I shall be even more drunk, and none of that will matter.”

“Wonderful.” Eddie said, and then grabbed hold of the door frame as the light went green, and Beverly hit the gas.

They end up at a reasonably large house owned by someone named Mike Hanlon. Several cars were already parked out front, including an expensive looking one that was the exact colour of Richie’s hair. Beverly rolled her eyes when she saw it, and twisted the mirror so that it was facing the opposite way.

“He’s so pretentious.” She said, and then jumped up the steps to the front door. “Come along Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Never heard that one before.” Eddie said and followed her up to the porch.

Beverly rang the doorbell, and then knocked on the door as a follow up. It was a moment before the door opened, revealing a man with a completely awful pony tail.

“Excuse me, you aren’t Mike.” Beverly said, poking him in the chest.

“Am I just as good?” The man replied and Beverly shook her head.

“Nope.” She said, and then bounced up to kiss him on the cheek. “Bill, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Bill. You may know him, he writes shit horror books.”

“Shut up Bev.” Bill said, looking at Beverly like she was the most beautiful girl in the world. “My books are good.”

“Your last book had a child orgy in it.” Beverly said, and then danced past him. “Come on Eddie.”

Eddie looked at Bill, who laughed. “She’s like that a lot.”

“It’s…. enjoyable.” Eddie replied, and Bill offered his hand. Eddie shook it. “Eddie Kaspbak.”

“Bill Denbrough. Richie’s been telling me all about you.”

“Oh really?” Eddie asked, cheeks going pink.

“Good things, I promise.” Bill said, and lead him into the house. “Apparently you’re helping Bev with that awful place of hers. You think you can get some good out of it?”

“If I try hard enough, yes.” Eddie said, and Bill clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good man.” He said, and pushed open a door into a full and noisy kitchen.

It was crowded of people, the Losers Club, Eddie presumed, but he barely had a chance to look around before Richie was roaring his name.

“Eds!” He announced gleefully, jumping off the counter he had been sitting on. “You made it!”

“So I did.” Eddie said, a little nervous, and Richie forced a glass of something amber coloured into his hand.

“I’m so glad.” He said, and spun Eddie round to face some people. “Now here, let’s introduce you to the motley crew, Ben you’ve met, can you believe he used to be fatter? And Bill, writer of strange stories, don’t look at him too long, he’ll take your soul, and here we have Mike, resident historian and nerd, and Stan the Man, otherwise known as Stanley, otherwise known as Stan.”

“Oh hey butter boy.” Said Uris, who Eddie had previously met in the supermarket, along with Mike.

“Butter boy?” Richie repeated, with the voice of someone who had just discovered a terrible and awful nickname.

“We’ve met before.” Mike said, leaning across to shake Eddie’s hand. “Good to meet you properly though. Eddie, was it?”

“That’s right.” Eddie said, shaking his hand. “I’m sorry you never got your salted butter.”

“Don’t worry, I snuck it into the cart whilst he wasn’t looking.” Mike said with a grin, and Stanley rolled his eyes.

“I saw it.” He said, amused, “Don’t you think I didn’t. I see everyone around here.”

“It’s that birdwatching blood of yours.” Richie said, and flicked Stanley on the bridge of his nose. “Don’t do anything you shouldn’t around here, Stanley will catch you.”

“I promise I won’t.” Eddie said, and took a sip from the glass just so he would have something to do with his hands. “What is this?”

“Scotch.” Richie replied, stealing it from him and taking a sip. The liquid clung to the hairs on his upper lip and Eddie pointed at him.

“You’ve got a moustache.” He said, and Richie leaned in close.

“I know.” He said, grinning, and Eddie suddenly felt a wave of attraction wash over him, so strong that he had to turn away and look at Beverly who was chatting animatedly to Ben.

“You know, I was meant to be cooking in this kitchen.” Mike said, amused. “You don’t all have to congregate in here, I own a perfectly good living room.”

“It’s fun annoying you though.” Bill said, and then clapped his hands together. “Come on you lot. Mike needs space.”

“Mike’s boring.” Beverly said, but reached over and lightly pressed her fingers against his arm. Mike smiled at her, and Eddie realised that the Loser’s Club loved each other so much that they might burst with it.

They ended up in the living room, Eddie sitting on the very edge of the sofa with Richie sprawled across it. Stanley sat on his own chair opposite them, whilst Bill, Ben, and Beverly took the other sofa, laying across each other like teenagers.

“I had the weirdest dream last night.” Ben said, and Beverly looked up at him.

“Was it about me?”

“Psch.” Richie said. “It was obliviously about me. Ben and I, on a beach, drinking martini’s and discussing the merits of pop culture in cinema, am I right Haystack?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Ben said, “You were naked too, I could see every ginger pube.”

“Ew.” Eddie said, and Richie laughed and ruffled Eddie’s curls.

“You a prude Eddie?” He asked, and Eddie shook his head.

“No. I just don’t want to think about your pubes.”

“Eddie is a man after my own heart.” Stanley said, and smiled over at Eddie. Eddie smiled back, he could see the two of them being friends. They both liked unsalted butter after all.

“Stanley, you would kill to get a look of this body.” Richie ran his hands down himself, and the group snorted with laughter, Stanley included.

“I’d kill to not get a look at your body.” Stanley said, deadpan, and Richie tossed a cushion at him. Stanley threw it back, just as Mike stuck his head through to the living room.

“I have a specific order for those cushions Tozier.” He said, and Richie pulled a face.

“That is incredibly lame Michael.” He said, and Mike flipped him off.

“Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.” He told the group, “So don’t get too wasted in between then.”

“Shots and lemon juice then.” Bill said, and Ben laughed.

“God you’re disgusting.” He told him, and Bill shoved him.

“You love it.”

“I really don’t.” Ben said honestly, and Beverly giggled.

“Idiots.” She said happily, and looked over at Eddie and smiled.

Eddie ended up sitting between Bill and Mike at dinner, with Richie sitting across from him. Dinner was a relaxed affair, with plenty of alcohol, and the most amazing steak that Eddie had ever tasted.

“Christ, I hope you’re not vegetarian.” Mike said when he put the plate down in front of Eddie. “You’re not, are you?”

“Definitely not.” Eddie said, lifting up his hands so Mike could settle the plate, “I like meat.”

“Hear hear.” Richie said, and was promptly kicked under the table by Stanley. “Ow!”

“This group is a disaster.” Bill said, already carving up his steak. “Why am I friends with you all?”

“Because you have no other choice?” Richie offered, “Or because we’re all incredibly sexy?”

“Hell yeah.” Ben said, tucking into his food, and Eddie covered his mouth with his hand to stop himself from laughing.

“So,” He said, once everyone was eating, “I know Bill is a writer, and Richie owns the café.”

Richie gave a wave at his own name.

“But what do the rest of you do?” Eddie finished, and the group looked around, waiting for someone to start.

“I’m a fashion designer.” Beverly said. “I do work up in the city, that’s where my apartment is. But my real home is here, in Derry.”

She looked over at both Ben and Bill, and Eddie wondered if they both knew she loved them equally.

“I’m an architect.” Ben said, clearing his throat. “I helped design the café, and if you need me, I can help with Bev’s house.”

“That would be great.” Eddie said, enthused. “The café is lovely.”

“See, Ben here just put the plans in place.” Richie pointed at Ben with his fork, “But I gave it the Richie touch.”

“What’s the Richie touch, some kind of STD?” Stanley asked, and Richie stuck out his tongue at him.

“Ha Ha Stan, very funny.”

“I’m the local historian.” Mike said, ignoring the others and turning to Eddie. “I know everything there is to know about Derry.”

“You know too much about Derry.” Bill interjected. “Why do you even need to know about weather patterns, and sewer systems and such like?”

“It’s fun!” Mike replied, taking a bite of potato. “It’s interesting. And I can help you with your book research, seeing as you set every story here.”

“It’s an fascinating town.” Bill said.

“Really?” Eddie asked, and they all looked at him. “I mean, maybe, I didn’t really get out much as a kid, but is it really that fascinating?”

“It’s more fascinating as in horrifying.” Mike said. “We’ve got a lot of child murders and abductions over here.”

“Guys, can we not talk about this?” Beverly asked. “I’m eating. And I want to have a good time tonight, and not speculate over missing children.”

The group shot worried looks at Bill, which Eddie didn’t get, but Bill held up his hands. “Yes. Let’s talk about something nicer in the presence of our new friend.”

He smiled at Eddie, and Eddie smiled back, and then was disrupted by someone kicking him under the table. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” Richie said, “Sorry, I didn’t realise your leg was there.”

Eddie reached under the table, rubbing his shin. “Are you wearing steel capped boots, that hurt?!”

“Maybe Richie should kiss it better?” Beverly said slyly, and then knocked over the salt cellar. “Ah, shit! Sorry Mike.”

“No worries.” Mike said, “It’s just spilt salt. No use getting upset.”

Beverly threw some of the salt over her shoulder and then scooped it back into the container. Stanley wrinkled his nose.

“That’s unhygienic.”

“Fight me Uris.” Beverly replied, and Stanley dropped the matter.

Eddie had to agree though. It was very dirty. Just like the way Richie was looking at him across the table, like he wanted to eat him up.

 


	5. Crimson

Eddie made his excuses around 11 o’clock to go home, that his mother would be worried, that he had to be up early the next day. The Losers Club all complained that it wasn’t fair, that they’d miss him, and that Eddie really needed to come back and spend the day with them.

“A full day.” Beverly said. “We can meet for brunch and then hang out the whole day.”

“Like when we were kids, and you just wouldn’t leave my house.” Mike said, “Oh wait, that’s now.”

“You love having us here.” Richie said, “We’re amazing, we eat your food, we listen to your stories, we compliment your sexy hair-“

“Fuck off Richie.” Mike said, laughing. “Eddie, you’re sure you have to go?”

“Yeah, my Mom will be worried.” Eddie said, “I really should be going.”

“I can drop you home.” Ben said, and then hiccuped.

“No you won’t, you’ve been drinking.” Stanley said, “I’d rather have you alive than dead Ben, sorry.”

“I can do it.” Richie said, and Eddie looked at him. “I haven’t been drinking since dinner.”

It was true. Eddie had been confused why Richie hadn’t filled up his glass of scotch, and now, realising that he did it so that he could drop Eddie home, his face flushed.

“It’s fine, I can get a taxi.” He said, but Richie shook his head.

“Don’t spend any more money than you have to! Come on, my car’s really cool. You’ll love it.”

Eddie looked at Beverly, who nodded at him.  “Okay.” He said slowly, “But I’ll pay you back somehow.”

“Fine with me.” Richie grinned, pulling himself up from the floor. “See you gang. Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”

“That isn’t much.” Bill said, and Richie laughed.

“True. Come along Eds.”

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie said, and followed him anyway.

The air outside was cool and crisp, and there were no clouds covering the moon, so Eddie could see the fingernail of it hanging in the air. Richie whistled as he walked towards the car, swinging his car keys round and round his finger.

“My lord,” He said with a bow, opening the passenger side door for Eddie. “Your chariot awaits.”

“You’re so strange.” Eddie said, climbing inside.

Richie followed suit, jumping over the side of the open top roof to get inside. He was all long legs, and Eddie turned away so that he couldn't stare. Then he suddenly realised he was alone in a car with a strange man, and anything could happen, and turned back to look at Richie.

“If you try anything I’ll throw myself out onto the road.” He said.

Richie looked at him, hurt. “Try anything?”

“Attack me or anything.” Eddie said, his hand resting lightly on the door handle. “I won’t hesitate.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Richie said. “I promise- I like you Eddie. You’re one of us now.”

“One of the Losers Club.”

“Exactly.” Richie pulled out of Mike’s driveway, “Address?”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“Your address.” Richie said, “Where do you live?”

“Oh, sorry.” Eddie ran his hands through his hair, and then told Richie his address.

“Posh side of town.” Richie said, and Eddie shrugged.

“It’s my mother’s house.”

They re-joined the road outside and Eddie could tell that something was bothering Richie.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, the alcohol in his system making him brave.

“Did you honestly think I’d hurt you?” Richie asked, “Seriously?”

Eddie shifted in his seat. “I don’t know. I’m not good at trusting people.”

“Is it the moustache?” Richie asked, and Eddie snorted. “No, hear me out! Ben’s always going on about how I look like a 60’s child fiddler, but I think it makes me look dashing- Stop laughing!”

Eddie was laughing so much that his sides were beginning to hurt. “it’s an awful moustache.”

“I look distinguished.” Richie said. “If I shave it off, I look about twelve.”

“I’d much rather have you looking twelve than looking like a paedophile.” Eddie said, and Richie groaned.

“God Eddie, you’re killing me here.” He said. “Stan wants me to shave it off.”

“I like Stan.” Eddie said.

“Yeah, you two seem like the type to get along.” Richie said, pulling the car into the left hand lane. “You’re both fussy.”

“Shut up.” Eddie said, “No wait. Beep Richie.”

Richie roared with laughter. “Oh my god, who told you that?!”

Eddie flushed, pleased. “I heard people telling it to you.”

Richie grinned, and Eddie grinned back at him.

“It’s Beep Beep Richie.” Richie said, “It’s what they say when they want me to shut up. Which is often.”

“I know.” Eddie said.

“Do you want to tell me to shut up a lot?” Richie asked.

Eddie thought for a moment. “Sometimes.” He said, and Richie reached out and ruffled his hair.

“I can see why the others like you.”

“Do you like me?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah.” Richie said, and turned on the radio. “Do you mind? I like listening to the radio, it takes up the silence, makes it less awkward.”

“It’s fine.” Eddie said, as a random song starts to play. It’s one Eddie hasn’t heard before, soft and slow. It’s nice.

“So, how long are you staying for?” Richie asked, “I know you have personal stuff, and we’ve roped, well, I’ve roped you into this whole house thing. Sorry, by the way, if you just wanted a relaxing time away.”

“No, it’s given me something to do.” Eddie said. “My mother is…. Well, it’s not exciting being in the house all alone with her.”

“Ah. I get you.” Richie nodded. “So you really don’t mind?”

“Not one bit.” Eddie promised. “I’m a workaholic. I like throwing myself into projects.”

“Huh.” Richie said. “Same, well, I think. I like the café, I like working with people, and seeing my customers, and I do lots of other stuff as well, keep myself busy. Maybe it’s just because I don’t like being alone.”

“I’ve got used to being alone.” Eddie said, and Richie reached out and touched Eddie’s hand.

“That’s just sad Eddie Spaghetti. Spaghetti head.”

“My hair doesn’t look like spaghetti.” Eddie said, fingers flying up to touch his hair. “I have normal hair.”

“Nope, definitely spaghetti.” Richie nodded seriously, “Be warned Eddie boy, one day I’ll get hungry and the only thing I’ll be able to see will be your hair, and I’ll just have to eat it up like a big bowl of Italian pasta.”

“You idiot.” Eddie said, smiling. “I’m going to have to carry snacks with me at all times so you don’t go for my hair.”

“Still gonna go for your hair.” Richie said, grinning. “It looks so tasty.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, smiling. “Beep Beep Richie.”

“I hear you Eddie.” Richie said. “Hey, what did you think of the others?”

“Your friends are lovely.” Eddie said at once. “All of them. You’re so lucky Richie.”

“We’re only friends because we were the weird kids at school.” Richie said, but there was heart in his voice. “But yeah, they’re great, aren’t they?”

“I love Beverly.” Eddie said, because she’d made him laugh the most.

“Most people do.” Richie danced along to the music, which had picked up in beat. “I expect you’ve figured out that Bill and Ben the flowerpot men are both in love with her?”

“Yeah.” Eddie said, because it had been hard to ignore. “Who do you think has the most chance?”

“Honestly? Ben is too cowardly to make a move. Billy boy has more of a chance. If he gets the balls to ask them out.” Richie said, and then, “Which one is your house?”

Eddie blinked, realising they were on his street. All the lights were off on his house, and he felt foolish pointing at it. “That one.”

“Nice.” Richie said, swinging the car over in front of the house elaborately. “Your chauffer was very pleased to deliver you home this fine evening.”

“You’re so ridiculous.” Eddie said, shaking his head, just as the screen door was thrown open.

“Edward?! Is that you?!”

“Christ.” Eddie said, pushing open the car down. “Richie, I’m sorry, thank you, my mother-“

“It’s fine.” Richie said, and then yelled out. “Hey Mrs Kaspbrak!”

“Who is that Edward?!” His mother called, and Eddie was already out the car, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Nobody!” He called, rushing up the front path to meet her halfway. She was in her dressing gown, frantic. “You should get inside, you’ll catch your death of cold.”

“Could have been dead.” She said, clutching his arm so hard that it hurt. “Could have been dead, you didn’t call, didn’t message your poor mother.”

“I’m sorry, time ran away with me.” Eddie said, turning to see if Richie’s car was still out front and it was, and Richie was staring at him. Eddie raised a hand to him, and Richie raised a hand back, and started the car.

“Who was that?” His mother asked, staring at the car in the darkness. “Edward?”

“Just my taxi.” Eddie said, “Let’s get you inside, it’s not safe being out here at night. You don’t know what could be out here.”

“Heathens.” His mother said, “Depravity. Homosexuals.”

“Exactly.” Eddie said, even though it hurt to say. “Did you have dinner?”

“No. I was too frightened to eat.”

“I’ll warm up some soup for you then.” Eddie said, walking her up the lawn towards the house. “Nice hot soup, like you used to give me when I was sick.”

“You vomited all over the wallpaper.”

Eddie looked at his mother who was staring off into the distance. “Yes. Yes I did.”

“Disgusting grubby little child.” His mother said, as if she was talking about someone else, and Eddie patted her on the arm, and led her inside the house.

Eddie made his mother some simple tomato soup in the kitchen, and then let her sit in her favourite arm chair to eat it. He stood over her, watching her eat and then swallow every single mouthful. She seemed like she was in a daze, eating methodically but robotically.

“Did you like the soup?” He asked.

“No.” She replied, and continued to eat it.

“Okay.” He said, and sat down on the sofa, burying his face in his hands. “I love you Ma.”

She didn’t reply, taking another mouthful of soup. “Where were you tonight?”

“Just with some friends.”

“A girl?”

“Boys.” Eddie answered, thinking it was best not to mention Beverly.

She stopped eating, looking at him. Eddie looked back at her, studying her face and the way the lines took hold of it.

“I worry about you Edward.” She said. “I worry about those feelings you used to have.”

Eddie shut his eyes for a moment and then opened them again. “I don’t have those feelings any more.”

He stood up, tugging down his shirt from where it had ridden up. “I’m going to get into bed. Do you need me-“

“Goodnight Edward.”

“Goodnight Ma.” He bent down, kissing her cheek. “Sleep well.”

She didn’t reply. Eddie sighed and left the room, and listened to the small soft sounds of the metal spoon clinking against her teeth.

Up in his bedroom, Eddie undressed quietly. He took his time, folding his shirt and pants, and lining up his socks on the radiator in his room. He made sure his shoes were neat in his cupboard, and his tie was hanging up with the rest of them.

And then he stared at himself in the full-length mirror, like a teenage boy. Eddie couldn’t remember what he used to be, what his 14, 15, 16 year old self looked like. He supposes he had the same soft sandy hair, and the same awkward way of standing, feet turned, stomach stuck out. He supposed that he always looked like this.

Eddie looked at himself, and tried to see what Richie saw. There was nothing special about him, he couldn’t understand it. What did Richie see, when he looked at Eddie’s worried face, the way his hair frizzed out like a halo, how skinny he was. Maybe Richie needed to update his prescription of those spectacles of his.

He placed his hands on his hips in a superman pose, feeling foolish. Richie often stood like this, but the pose on Eddie just looked awkward. Eddie’s fingers twitched, and for a second he imagined Richie standing in front of him, also stripped down to his underwear, smiling at him.

It was enough to make Eddie gasp for breath, turning away from the mirror to find his inhaler. He sat down on the bed hard, holding it protectively to his face and took several puffs of it, scrabbling for breath.

After he’d finished freaking out, he dropped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't believe he just went into an asthma attack because of a man he'd only just met. A man who had absolutely no interest in him, and wouldn’t ever, ever, because Richie was straight, and Eddie was sick. Sick inside and out, because he’s a fag.

Eddie vomited over the side of the bed.

 


	6. Radio

Eddie called Myra the following morning, not even bothering to get dressed. He stood in the hallway in his dressing gown and slippers, dialled her number and leaned against the wall as he waited for her to pick up.

“Myra speaking.”

“It’s me, Eddie.” He replied, and she gave a little noise of surprise.

“Geez, louise Eddie, I thought you’d never ring.” She said, annoyed. “What’s taken you so long?”

“My mom’s been sick.” Eddie said, talking quietly down the phone so that his mother couldn't hear him. “Sorry, it’s been a mess over here.”

“That’s no excuse not to call me.” Myra said, and Eddie scratched his head anxiously.

“Were you worried?”

“Well I figured you weren’t _dead._ ” Myra said. “It’s just annoying. I like knowing where you are.”

“I'm sorry.” He said. “Forgive me?”

“Only just.” Myra replied. “How's your mother?”

“Tiring.” Eddie said. “She's not her usual self. I'm worried about her.”

He paused, tangling the phone cord between his fingers. “I might stay a bit longer than I was planning.”

“Eddie!”

“I'm sorry!” Eddie replied, “It's just, she's ill, and I've been offered some work here-”

“What kind of work?” Myra asked, curious.

“Nothing that impressive, just a house valuing, and maybe some life insurance that needs to be drawn up.” He said, and he could practically hear Myra rolling her eyes.

“Eddie, there's better work up here. You don't need to take some dead end job in Derry of all places.”

“It's not a dead end job. It's for a friend.”

Myra snorted. “You don't have any friends in Derry.”

“Yes I do.” Eddie said. “We lost contact as children, but we met up the other day. And now I'm helping them out.”

“Bullshit.” Myra said, and then sniffed. “What are you getting paid?”

“Enough.” Eddie lied, because he probably wouldn't take payment from Richie and Beverley.

“Not a ballpark figure Kaspbak.”

“We haven't figured out all the specifics yet.” Eddie said. “I've only just started.”

“Well I think it's ridiculous.” Myra said. “What are these friends names again?”

“Beverley Marsh.” Eddie said.

“A girl?” Myra asked, incredulously. “You don't know any girls.”

“Well I know this one.” Eddie said, “And Richie Tozier.”

Myra spluttered. “What?!”

“Richie... Tozier?”

“Yeah, I heard what you said idiot. You know Richie Tozier?”

“Yeah...” Eddie said, confused. He didn't want to ask who exactly Richie was, because then Myra would accuse him of lying, and in all honesty, he was. “Yes I do.”

“You're full of surprises Edward.” Myra said.

“Not really.” Eddie said. “How's the job hunt going?”

“Shit, as usual.” Myra said. “That's why I want you back here, we need the money.”

“I'm sorry.” Eddie said, “Just, a week or so. That's all.”

“Fine.” Myra said, and sighed. “I guess I won't hear for you for a couple of days then?”

“Seems like it.” Eddie said. “I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you too.” Myra repeated, almost by rote. “I need to go to the mall now Eddie, I promised Virginia I'd help her find a new dress.”

“That's fine.” Eddie said, “I'll try and talk to you soon.”

“Mm.” Myra said, “I love you.”

“I love you back.” Eddie replied, and Myra put down the phone. Eddie stood there for a moment, and then quietly replaced the phone on the hook.

He should ask his mother for the engagement ring. He should tell her that he wants to marry a woman. He should tell her that he wants to settle down with Myra, and spend his life with Myra, and have missionary awful sex with Myra so that he can have children with Myra.

Instead, Eddie grabbed his front door keys from the hook by the door, and left the house without a second glance.

At first he wandered about Derry randomly, following the sewer pipe up until it led into the woods. He didn't really want to go wandering through the woods without any knowledge of where he was going, so he turned and walked back towards the town.

When he was younger, they had a milkman that came around to every house. Eddie’s mother refused to get the milk from him because she didn’t trust him, the milkman was too young, too happy, too enthusiastic about milk.

Eddie had loved him. He used to cycle behind him as the milkman delivered the milk to every house, and would even get free cartons of milk, which Eddie used to drink in secret. The milkman used to ruffle him on the head and call him curlybonce, and Eddie would giggle and wonder why he wanted to be friends with this man so badly.

Looking back, it was a painful childhood crush, and Eddie should do best to forget it.

 

He realised, too late, that he was walking to Richie's cafe, and he couldn't even stop himself as he pushed open the front door, and was hit by a blast of sweet warm air. There was a huge platter of cinnamon cakes displayed on the front counter, and Eddie stood in the doorway and breathed everything in.

“Hey there Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie turned to see Richie clearing up plates from an elderly couple in the corner. He was wearing an apron that read _World's Okayest Cook_ , and a dark blue shirt underneath. Eddie felt his whole body relax at seeing him, and he pushed his glasses further up his nose.

“Hey- Hey there Richie.” He replied. “I was wondering if I could get a coffee?”

“Only the best for my favourite customer.” Richie replied, carrying the tray of dirty plates and glasses over to the counter, and passing them through the staff only door. “Flat white?”

“Yes please.” Eddie said, and peered at the cakes on display. “What are these?”

“Cinnamon bun things.” Richie replied, “Stanley invented them. They're really good, if you want to taste nothing but cinnamon for the next couple of days because it's burnt onto your lungs.”

“I'll take one.” Eddie said, “No, two. I'll take two. Thank you.”

“Coming right up.” Richie took two of the cakes with a little pair of tongs that Eddie was grateful for, and set them on a plate. He turned away to make the coffee, and Eddie leaned against the counter to watch him.

Maybe it wasn't a weird perversion he was feeling. Maybe this was just friendship; he'd never really had a friend before. There were people in his office, hell, he'd had lunch and dinners with them and talked about the weather. But they never spoke like he and Richie spoke, and it never felt the same way.

“That'll be $3.75 please.” Richie said, and Eddie reached into his wallet for change. “You're going to be my last customer of the day Spaghetti, so count yourself lucky that you got here when you did.”

Eddie blinked. “The cafe is closing?”

“No, definitely not!” Richie waved his hand, “I just have another job I have to get to. Stanley will be there though, if you want any more food or drink.”

“Oh.” Eddie said. “What other job?”

“It's a thing,” Richie said, “Don't worry you pretty little head about it.”

“My head isn't pretty.” Eddie said, handing over the money, and Richie pushed the plate and coffee cup towards him. “Thank you.”

“No problemo.” Richie said, plugging the money into the register. “Sit anywhere you like, we don't charge.”

“Can't I talk to you here?” Eddie asked, and Richie laughed.

“I mean sure, if you want to. I've only got ten minutes though.”

“That's fine with me.” Eddie said, and took a bite of the cinnamon cake. “Oh, this is really good!”

“I'll share your compliments with the chef.” Richie said, and kicked the staff only door open with his foot. “Hey, Uris! Eddie says your cakes are good!”

Stanley shouted a reply back but Eddie couldn't hear it. He took another bite of the cake, understanding what Richie said about the amount of cinnamon.

“Stanley told me to fuck up, but he appreciates your comments.” Richie said, slamming the door shut. “Hey, I'm sorry about your mom yesterday. I didn't mean to stir any trouble or anything.”

“It's fine.” Eddie said, “She's always like that, she worries about me.”

“Is she okay?” Richie asked, and Eddie shrugged, drawing a pattern in the powdered sugar on the table.

“I don't know. She's changed, since I was younger. Some of her habits have changed, but, I don't know.” Eddie said, and then realised how dirty the table must be and wiped his hands on his trousers. “She eats out of Tupperware boxes now, and she doesn't clean the house that often. But still, she's still the same over protective parent.”

“I understand.” Richie said, and nodded towards Eddie's coffee. “Drink that before it gets cold.”

Eddie took a sip and frowned. “It tastes different.”

“I added extra vanilla.” Richie replied, and then straightened up. “I can change it if you want, it's no problem, I just assumed that, you know, you might have wanted something different.”

“No, it's good.” Eddie smiled as he took another sip. “Thank you.”

“It's no problem Eds.” Richie said, grabbing a wet towel from underneath the counter and began wiping down the table. Eddie took a step back so he didn't get splashed. “When are you next free, by the way?”

“For the house viewing?” Eddie asked, and Richie nodded.

“That, and because we want to invite you out some place.” Richie said. “Bev called me last night, after she got home, and she loves you.”

“Aw, I'm glad.” Eddie said. “I think I'm free whenever. Well, I'm staying here longer than planned, helping out with my Ma and all, so I'm only going to be here for a couple of weeks, but yes, I'm free.”

“Great!” Richie said, shoving the towel back underneath the counter. “I'll call her, tell her all your details.”

“What, my vital statistics?” Eddie asked, and Richie laughed.

“Exactly.” He ran his hands through his hair, and then sighed. “Jeez, I need to get going. Bleh.”

“Do you not like your job?” Eddie asked sympathetically, but Richie shook his head.

“No, no, I love it.” He said, “I just wanted to stay and talk to you.”

“Oh.” Eddie said, and Richie took the apron off his neck, folding it up neatly.

“It's okay, I'll see you later.” Richie said, with a smile, and then reached and flicked Eddie's arm. “Enjoy your food, okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie said, the feeling of Richie's hand on his arm like a brand. “Thank you.”

“Welcome!” Richie said, and disappeared through the staff only door.

Eddie stood there for a moment, almost swaying with the force of Richie, and then collected up his plate and mug and took it to his corner table. There were surprisingly more people in the cafe than when he had last been there, older couples, and parents with their older children. Eddie people watched for a moment, and then felt awkward, knowing that he would be upset if someone was staring at him.

Eddie don’t know how he sat there, carefully taking small calculated bites and sips so that he could spend as much time in the café as possible. It must have been half an hour later that Stanley came out of the back room and took court behind the counter, staring out with a blank expression. Eddie caught his eye, and Stanley broke into a smile, and waved. Eddie waved back, and then continued sipping at his coffee.

“Hey, Stan!” One of the customers called, “It’s 1:55, put the radio on.”

“Ah shit,” Stanley said, stepping out from behind the counter to turn on an old-fashioned radio that lived on the side board. “You don’t miss a trick, do you Louis?”

The person who had spoken laughed, shrugging their shoulders. “What’s the point of coming in here if you don’t listen to the show?”

The radio crackled to life, the end of a song blaring through the speakers. Eddie sat up in his seat, wondering what was going to happen next, when a jingle started. Eddie frowned, trying to figure out what the announcer was singing, when the jingle ended, and a familiar voice came talking out.

“ _Gooooood afternoon people of Derry_! This is Richie Tozier speaking to you live on Tone Radio and I hope you’re looking forward to a great show!”

Eddie felt his face flush. “Richie has a radio show?” He asked Stanley.

“Yup.” Stanley said, grabbing hold of the spare chair on Eddie’s table and swung himself into it. “It’s a talk show, he has guests and stuff. Famous people, not just random people he pulled off the street. Knowing Richie though, he could pull people off the street.”

“It’s a popular show?” Eddie asked, and Stanley nodded. Something clicked in Eddie’s mind. “Oh,” He said, “That’s how Myra knew him.”

“Myra?” Stanley asked.

“My girlfriend.” Eddie said, without thinking. Stanley blinked at him, and then quickly turned away to face the other customers. “Stanley?”

“It's none of my business.” Stanley replied, and Eddie fiddled with his napkin. “Listen to the show.”

Eddie instead looked down at the mouthful of cinnamon cake he had left on his plate, and ate them quickly, washing them down with his last dregs of coffee.

“I should go.” He said to Stanley.

“I’ll see you.” Stanley replied, without turning around.

Eddie took his plate and mug up to the counter, and left as quickly as he could.

 


	7. Fanclub

Eddie didn’t have Richie’s number so he spent the next days alone. He cleaned the entire house from top to bottom, hoovered around his mother as she sat in her armchair, staring into space. He shined every piece of silver, he dusted all the cobwebs from the corners, and he disinfected everything he could see.

“What are you doing?” His mother asked when Eddie walked past her with a mop.

“Making the kitchen habitable for humans.” Eddie replied, and she shot him a look from underneath her brow.

“Are you being smart with me Edward?” She asked, and Eddie shook his head.

“No Ma.” He said, and carried on walking to the kitchen. “Not at all!”

So Eddie cleaned. He polished every single ornament in the living room, he fluffed all the cushions until you bounced when you sat down on them, and he found surgical mask and cleaned the bathroom till it no longer smelt of stale piss.

Eddie didn’t get to the phone when it rang early in the morning two days later. He was busy in the kitchen, sorting out the cupboard under the sink where all the soap and bleach was kept. It was only when the sound of his mother talking drifted into the kitchen, that he stood up, and wandered out into the hall.

His mother was standing by the phone, twirling the cord around her arm just like Eddie did when he was on the phone, talking to someone. It was odd to see his mother connecting with the world, actually talking to another person that wasn’t him, that Eddie leaned against the doorframe, watching her.

 “Yes Mr Tozier,” His mother said, and Eddie realised exactly who she was talking to and leapt forward to grab the phone off her. “Eddie!”

“Richie?” Eddie asked, breathless, holding the phone above his head so his mother couldn’t grapple it from him.

“You just interrupted a very nice conversation with your mother.” Richie said, but he didn’t sound too mad about it.

“Sorry.” Eddie said, as his mother tried to swipe the phone from him, “Why are you calling?”

“Are you free today?” Richie asked, “Bill’s published a new book, and he wants you to come to the publishing event.”

“Seriously?” Eddie asked, “He wants me to come?”

“Well yeah Spaghetti head!” Richie said, “He’s your friend. And his book is shit, so he wants more people to come.”

“Is his book really that shit?” Eddie asked.

“Someone gets his foot cut off with an axe.” Richie replies, “Make your own opinions.”

“Ah.” Eddie says, and his mother hits him hard on the side. “Ow!”

“What happened?”

“My mother punched me.” Eddie replied, and his mother opened her mouth in anger. “What time do you want me?”

“Ouch, you okay?” Richie asked. “But Bill wants you at the town hall at 5. Think you can make it, after your vicious parental attack?”

“I think I can make it.” Eddie said, smiling. “Will you be there?”

“Wouldn’t miss the opportunity to annoy Bill for the world.” Richie said happily.  “See you there Eds.”

“I’ll see you there.” Eddie said, smiling, and ended the call before his mother could grab the phone again. “Mr Tozier hung up Ma.”

“I was having a nice conversation with that man.” His mother said, folding her arms. “He has a radio show. I listen to it sometimes.”

“Do you?” Eddie asked, surprised. And then, “I’m going out tonight.”

“Where?” She asked. “With Mr Tozier?”

“Yes.” Eddie said. “And some other people.”

His mother studied him for a moment. Eddie stared back at her, wondering what she would say.

“I want you home by 9.” She said. “And I mean it Edward, no take backs.”

“Yes Ma.” Eddie said, “I promise I will.”

“Good.” She said, and Eddie bent down and kissed her on her withered cheek.

Eddie took a cab to the Town Hall, where photographs of Bill and his new book were plastered all over posters. It was odd seeing a friend’s face everywhere, even though Bill’s ponytail really was awful.

There was a girl on the door blowing pink bubbles of gum. She popped it when Eddie came closer, and started riffling through the papers on her clipboard.

“Name?” She asked.

“Uh, Eddie Kaspbrak?”

“ _Uh-Eddie-Kaspbrak_?” The girl repeated, and flicked through the paper. “Hey, you’re right at the top?”

“Really?” Eddie asked, also surprised. The girl looked him up and down, and then took a step to the side.

“Welcome.” She said, and blow another gum bubble. “Enjoy yourself.”

There were a lot more people in the hall than Eddie would have expected. They were all buzzing with excitement too, drinking the champagne that was on offer, and flicking through hardback copies of Bill’s latest book. There were small private readings going on, random men and woman reading at various points in the book, and crowds would gather around them and listen to the sound of the words.

Someone snaked their arm around Eddie’s shoulders, and he jumped, going to push the person away when he realised it was Richie.

“Hey there!” Richie said, and gave Eddie a squeeze. “So, what do you think? Have you read any of the book yet?”

“I’ve only heard random parts.” Eddie replied, not moving to push Richie’s arm off him. “Something about a type writer?”

Richie laughed. “Yeah, it’s a weird story. But Bill likes weird though, and he’s a nice guy, so we don’t bother him about it too much.”

“I guess as long as he doesn’t act out the things in his books he’s okay?” Eddie asked, and Richie snorted.

“Pretty much Spaghetti head.” He said, and then removed his arm from around Eddie’s neck as Bill came sweeping along the room to get to them. He was followed by Mike, who was wearing a very cosy looking jumper for the occasion.

“So glad you could come!” Bill said, pumping Eddie’s hand with enthusiasm. “You read the book yet?”

“Give him a break Billiam, it’s only just come out.” Richie rolled his eyes, “Anyway, he might hate your stuff.”

“I don’t think I’ll hate it.” Eddie said, trying to remove his hand from Bill’s grip. “It might be a little scary for my taste, but you can’t knock something if you’ve never tried it.”

“Hear hear.” Mike said, smiling at him. “Have you read any of Bill’s books before Eddie?”

“I don’t think so.” Eddie said, finally rescuing his hand and shoving it into his pocket so nobody else could touch it. “I’ll have to check out the local library.”

“Oh I could give you a copy?” Bill said, “It would be no bother, I have some spares at home.”

“Yeah, because nobody’s buying them.” Richie said, and then held up his hands. “Joking, joking!”

Bill laughed, shaking his head fondly at Richie. “I think this event would beg to differ Trashmouth.”

“You could have paid all these people to be here.” Richie pointed out, just as a girl came bouncing up to them.

“Mr Denbrough, will you sign my copy?” She asked breathlessly, and Bill smiled, taking a pen from his top pocket.

“Of course. Who shall I make it out to?”

Richie exchanged a look with Eddie, who laughed and then covered his mouth with his hand. Mike glanced at the two of them and pulled a face, and Eddie shuffled on his feet as he waited for Bill to finish.

“There you go,” Bill said, signing his name with an elaborate flourish. “Enjoy the book!”

“Oh I know I will!” The girl said, and ran off to her friends, holding the book to her chest like it was a holy grail.

Bill turned back to the three of them, who were watching him with amused expressions. “What?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Mike said. “Hang on, I’ve just spotted a historian I like. I’ll be right back.”

He sidestepped Bill, disappearing off after an elderly man who was pondering a platter of sandwiches. Eddie watched him go, wondering what it would be like to have an interest. Bill had his books, and Mike had his history, and Richie had the café and his radio show. Eddie didn’t have anything.

Richie and Bill were saying something, but Eddie had zoned out, watching the various people. He noticed Ben and Beverley talking by a book stand, Ben’s hand on Beverley’s arm. She didn’t seem like she wanted to shrug it off, in fact she was smiling as she talked, playing with her long hair.

“You will, won’t you Eddie?” Richie bumped Eddie’s hip.

“What?” Eddie turned to face them both. “Sorry, I was somewhere else.”

“Anywhere nice?” Richie asked, grinning, and Eddie shrugged. “Bill was asking if you wanted to go to the after party.”

“I have to be home by 9.” Eddie said, and Richie’s face softened for a moment, before it went back to normal.

“You have a curfew?” He asked, and Eddie felt like a child again.

“My mother…. She’s sick.” He said, “I have to check on her, it’s not safe to leave her alone by herself.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bill said seriously, reaching out and squeezing Eddie’s shoulder. “You don’t have to come to the after party, we can just have fun here.”

“Exactly, surrounded by Bill’s biggest fans.” Richie said. “Hey, what are you fans called? Billettes? The Billy Boys? The Billy Bongs!”

“Beep Beep Richie.” Bill and Eddie said at the same time, in the same weary expression, and then looked at each other, delighted.

“Oh Christ.” Richie said, “You’ve turned Eddie into one of you.”

“He doesn’t mind it.” Bill said happily.

“I really don’t.” Eddie said, thrilled to be one of the gang, and Richie rolled his eyes.

“Idiots.” He said fondly. “I’m off to get a drink.”

Eddie watched him leave, admiring the belt on his trousers. Bill coughed quietly, and Eddie looked over at him.

“Hey.” Bill said. “You and Richie have gotten close, right?”

“I think so?” Eddie replied. “I don’t know. I’m doing work with him, so I guess it’s a professional relationship.”

Bill raised one eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. There was clapping from one of the groups of people who were reading, and then suddenly people were calling out for Bill to read the first chapter, as they wanted to hear his voice.

Bill smiled. “Duty calls.” He said to Eddie, and Eddie stepped back to give him space to leave. “Enjoy yourself Eddie.”

“Thank you.” Eddie said, and decided to grab a drink of water.

Eddie was on his second glass of water, because keeping hydrated is especially important, when Stanley came up to him. He fidgeted for a while, and Eddie didn’t say anything, because he didn’t want to rush him.

“Hey,” Stanley said finally, looking uncomfortable. “I didn’t say anything to Richie about you having a girlfriend.”

Eddie blinked. “Why would you say something to Richie about having a girlfriend?”

“Because, you know…” Stanley trailed off, staring at him. “You know, don’t you?”

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t.” He said.

“Fuck.” Stanley said, and ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus, you really don’t understand, do you?”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie apologised. “I don’t really get what you mean?”

Stanley took a deep breath. “Are you gay?”

“What?!” Eddie took a step back, offended. “What, no?! Never. I’m not gay. Why did you think that?”

Stanley didn’t reply.

“Why did you think I was gay?” Eddie asked anxiously. “Tell me.”

“I’m not going to.” Stanley ran a hand through his hair again. “Fuck, why does Richie always-“

“Always what?” Eddie asked, “Always what?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Stanley said, “I’ve got to go.”

“Stanley, wait-“ Eddie said, because he needed to know, he was being so careful about his appearance, he thought he was being so good.

But Stanley was going, and Bill was on stage making a speech, and there was suddenly too much noise, a wave going over Eddie, and he dropped his glass on the floor, and escaped.

The outside air was freezing, and Eddie had left his coat in the cloakroom. He bent over, teeth chattering, and stared down at a puddle until his glasses almost fell off his nose. He was shaking, nausea sweeping through him, and he couldn’t shake Stanley’s words.

Stanley thought he was gay. Which meant, maybe all the Losers thought he was gay. Maybe they were inviting him into his group because they felt sorry for him, maybe Richie was only being kind to Eddie because he looked so lonely.

“Hey, are you okay?” An arm on his back and Eddie reacted hard, shoving them away.

“Don’t touch me!” He said, and Richie stepped back, hurt.

“Eddie, I’m sorry.” He said, and Eddie wrapped his arms around himself, because he didn’t want to infect Richie with whatever he had.

“You musn’t- You mustn’t touch me.” Eddie said. “Please.”

“Okay.” Richie said, and his voice was soft. “I promise I won’t.”

They stood there in silence, watching each other. Eddie felt like a frightened animal that Richie was trying to contain.

“Are you okay?” Richie asked. Eddie shook his head. “Do you need me to call someone?”

Eddie shook his head again. “No.”

“Did someone say something to you?” Richie asked, and Eddie hesitated for a split second, but it was enough. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Eddie said, and Richie nodded.

“Okay. That’s fine.” He said, and Eddie realised how kind Richie must have been to the others when they were all young, putting band-aids on bruised knees, and wiping away tears.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie offered helplessly.

“It’s okay.” Richie promised, “I understand, yeah? Take as long as you need.”

Eddie nodded. “Thank you.”

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Richie asked.

Eddie shook his head. And then nodded. And then shook it again. Richie cracked a smile.

“You’re very decisive.” He said, and Eddie fiddled with a loose thread on his shirt. “I’ll stay.”

They fell into silence again. Eddie looked down at the ground, feeling Richie’s eyes on him, and found he didn’t mind it all that much. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his inhaler, taking a few puffs of it, before replacing it.

“How do you feel?” Richie asked, after a couple of minutes had passed.

“Better.” Eddie said.

“Can I hug you?” Richie asked, and Eddie blinked up at him, confused. “You can say no.”

“No, it’s fine.” Eddie said. “Just, why?”

“Because.” Richie shrugged, and then took a step forward. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie said, nervous.

Richie’s arms enveloped him, pulling him close. Eddie’s head settled in the crook of Richie’s shoulder, and he could smell the café on his clothes. He rubbed his cheek against Richie’s shirt, and closed his eyes, and hoped he wouldn’t infect him.

 


	8. Sardines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT UP IT'S MY FAVE CHAPTER
> 
> (also i have a tumblr, come hmu its @theflirtmeister)

Eddie started spending more time with the Losers after that. He and Beverley sorted out the house and he contacted a well known and trustworthy estate agent so that she could try selling it. He went to the library with Mike and Bill, helping to research Bill’s next book about aliens. He went bird watching with Stanley, and watched Ben draw beautiful houses out of his imagination. And of course, he went to Richie’s café, and ate cake, and drank coffee and talked and talked until his throat was sore.

“You’re spending a lot of time outside.” His mother said one night, as they ate dinner together. Eddie had cooked again, fish in sauce, and his mother was scraping her fish apart, searching for bones.

“I’ve made some really good friends here.” Eddie replied, “I’m really happy Ma.”

She looked up at him, a piece of fish stuck to her lip. “You’ll have to go back home soon though Edward. Myra is waiting.”

Eddie’s heart sunk at the thought of Myra. “I suppose.”

“She misses you Edward.”

“Have you spoken to her?” Eddie asked.

“No. But I know when women miss their husbands.” His mother said, and Eddie blinked.

“We’re not married yet.” He said slowly, “She’s just my girlfriend.”

“But that’s why you came here, isn’t it? To ask my permission to marry her?” His mother asked.

Eddie felt sick. “I just wanted to visit you Ma.”

“Excuses, excuses.” His mother waved her hand. “Do you want your grandmother’s ring? It will look so pretty on Myra’s finger, after they size up the band of course.”

Eddie knew that this was the reason he was here, that he’d only come up to Derry in the first place was because he wanted the ring. God, everything had become so awful and confused.

“I’d love the ring.” Eddie said, so quiet that his mother strained to hear him. “Thank you so much, that’s very kind.”

His mother smiled, and then it vanished from her face. “We’ll have to plan the wedding. Where you want it, what you’re going to where, the food-“

“Ma, she hasn’t even said yes yet!” Eddie said despairingly.

“Oh but she will though.” She replied, “You’re a very handsome young man.”

“Thank you.” He said, because he took compliments where he could get from his mother. “But honestly, we don’t need to start planning so soon. Please.”

His mother shut her mouth, chewing her fish thoughtfully. Eddie thought she had dropped, or forgotten the matter, and then she spoke again.

“Does Mr Tozier know you’re getting married?”

“Yes.” Eddie said, clearing up his plate. “He does.”

“You haven’t finished your dinner.” His mother said, looking at his plate.

“I wasn’t hungry.” Eddie replied, and she took it from his hands, scraping his food onto hers.

“We mustn’t waste food Edward.” She said, “There’s a war on!”

“I know.” Eddie said, looking at her thin frail frame. “I know Ma.”

It was Beverley who called the next morning, twice. Eddie missed the first time she rang because he was still asleep, and it was only his mother yelling that the phone was ringing made him go downstairs in his pyjamas to answer it.

“Kaspbrak residence.”

“Hey Eddie!” Beverley said perkily, too perky for the hour that it was. “Are you free?”

“I think so?” Eddie nestled the phone between his ear and his shoulder, yawning. “Why?”

“Well the house is going on the market tomorrow.” Beverley said, “For the viewings. So we’re all going to the house, and we’re going to get drunk, and order pizza, and it’s going to be wonderful.”

“Oh, really?” Eddie asked, trying not to fall back asleep.

“Richie will be there.” Beverley said, something sly in her voice.

“I expected he would be, he’s part of the Losers Club.” Eddie said, “Do you want me to bring something? I found some old records the other day too, if you need music.”

“Ooh, bring a bottle of wine?” Beverley asked. “It’s fine if you can’t. We will equally accept the pleasure of your beautiful company. And I don’t think we have a record player either, I’m sorry.”

“You flatter me Bev.” Eddie said, and she laughed.  

“Of course I do, you’re the cutest.” She said. “I’ll see you at the house around 5ish?”

“Good for me.” Eddie said. “I’ll see you then.”

“Love you Eddie.” Beverley said, and Eddie was so tired that he didn’t even question it.

“Love you too Bev.” He said, and hung up the phone.

He shook his head, trying to get the sleep out of his hair, failed, and went straight back up to bed again.

Eddie ended up at Beverley’s house at 4 in the afternoon, clutching a bottle of wine that he found in the cupboard at home. It’s expensive, and hopefully it tastes nice, and the others don’t think it’s too pretentious.

Beverley opened the door, dressed in denim dungarees and a bright yellow shirt underneath. Eddie blinked at her outfit, and she grinned at him, throwing open the door wide.

“My favourite person!” She announced, and Eddie handed her the bottle of wine. “Ooh, very nice. I’ll put it in the cupboard, we can drink it when the other’s come here. Unless you want to be wicked and open it now?”

“Open it later.” Eddie said firmly, and stepped over the threshold. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you!” She said happily. “I like your yellow tie. We match!”

She took hold of his tie, pulling Eddie closer towards her, and laid the tie against the yellow of her shirt.

“So we do.” Eddie said.

“We’re both buzzy bees.” She replied, and kissed the side of his head before releasing him. “I’ve started drinking already, obviously, because I’m a disaster, but I have juice and stuff on the table.”

“I’ll stick to water.” Eddie said.

“How sensible you are Eddie.” Beverly said, “I love it!”

She led him into the kitchen, filling up a pint glass of water for him. “Don’t ask when the others will get here. Actually, oh wait, do, we can take bets on who will arrive first.”

“Stanley and Mike will arrive first.” Eddie said, taking the water from her.

“Together or separate?” Beverly asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Together.” Eddie said.

“Hm, I’m calling separate.” Beverly said, and waved her hand, “Continue.”

“Then Bill… No wait, Ben.” Eddie said, “And then Bill. And then Richie.”

“You think Richie will be last?” Beverly asked, and Eddie nodded.

“I think so.”

“Huh.” Beverly said, and took a gulp of wine. “Let’s see then, my beautiful fashionable friend. Let us see.”

The doorbell rang about twenty minutes later as Eddie was arranging the various snacks that Beverly had bought. He’d found a nice plate in the cupboard and was making sure everything was laid out and nice, and Beverly was sitting on the kitchen counter telling him a story about Richie when he was younger.

“I’ll get it!” Beverly yelled, and Eddie almost dropped the dip he was holding.

“Indoor voice.” He said, and Beverly laughed, jumping off the counter and rushing to the door.

“Oh hello Stanely and Mike! Together!” She said loudly, and Eddie snorted, quickly trying to school it into a neutral expression when Beverly led the two men into the kitchen. “Look, Eddie’s here!”

“Hello Eddie.” Mike said, who was holding a bottle of red wine. “How are you?”

“I’m good thanks.” Eddie smiled, and looked over at Stanley. “Did you bring cake?”

“Of course.” Stanley said, setting the platter on the counter. “I made vanilla swirls.”

“I love you.” Beverly said, a little breathless. “Eddie, I’m sorry, but Stanley is my best friend now.”

“I forgive you.” Eddie said, and wondered when it was socially acceptable to eat one of Stanley’s cakes.

The doorbell rang less than ten minutes later, and Beverly and Eddie looked at one another.

“Ben.” Eddie said.

“Bill.” Beverly said, and then rushed to open the door.

Eddie leant back against the counter, listening to Mike talk about the history of gay rights in Derry, and blinked when Beverly announced. “Richie’s here!”

Richie came into the kitchen dressed in a plaid red jumper, and a bottle of vodka. He grinned when he saw the three of them, placing the vodka on the counter.

“Beverly asked for wine.” Stanley said, “Idiot.”

“And I thought I’d spice it up a bit with the hard spirits.” Richie replied, “Hey Eddie Spaghetti.”

“I told you not to call me that.” Eddie said, mildly annoyed that he lost the arrival game. “Why are you early?”

“Can a man not be early to see his friends? Can a man not take his beautiful car for a spin and end up here? Can a man not arrive early in order to start drinking sooner?” Richie asked, stepping closer with each question, and ruffled Eddie’s hair.

“Get off me.” Eddie said, but there was no anger to it. “Let’s open a bottle of wine then, if you’re so desperate.”

“You don’t want my vodka?” Richie asked, waggling his eyebrows, and Eddie hit his arm playfully.

“Not yet.” He said, and knew he was about to get roaring drunk.

Bill and Ben arrived together, but Eddie was already lying on the living room floor at that point, letting Beverly play with his hair. They were all comfortably smashed, and Bill laughed when he saw them, all spread out like children.

“This brings back memories of sleepovers.” He said, getting down onto the floor beside them, Ben following suit.

“Remember that time you ran round my garden naked Richie?” Ben said, and Richie laughed, holding up his hand.

“Course I do! And that girl who was living with you, you know, the awful one with the hair, watched out of her window the entire time!”

Ben laughed, pouring himself an ample glass of wine. “Ah, that was the best dare.”

“Apart from when you made me go down into the sewer.” Stanley said. “That was the worst moment of my life.”

“It built character.” Richie said, slapping Stanley on the back.

“It built a life long fear of sewers.” Stanley replied, and took a very long drink.

Eddie had put all the snacks in the middle, and people were lazily helping themselves. Mike had eaten almost half the dip, and after the pieces of carrots had run out and Eddie was too tired to get some more, and had just started eating the dip with his fingers.

“You’re disgusting.” Stanley said, and Mike had stuck out his tongue at him, causing him to shriek. “I can see left over food, you animal!”

Eddie laughed, falling back against Beverly, who giggled, running her fingers through his hair.

“I wish I had hair like yours.” She said, “It’s so adorable.”

“You can’t have my hair.” Eddie said, “It’s mine.”

“Not fair.” Beverly said, pouting, and Eddie laughed, which made Beverly laugh too. “Damn it, I need to pee.” She said, and stood up.

“Safe travels.” Ben said, “Keep safe.”

“Don’t get lost.” Bill said.

“We love you.” Richie added, and Beverly flipped them off before going upstairs.

Eddie laughed, more to himself than to the group, and lay down on his back so that he was staring up at the ceiling. It was moving slightly, and Eddie followed the patterns with his eyes, before they got too confusing and he had to shut his eyes.

“Hey Stan, can I have one of your cake things?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Stanley replied, pushing the plate towards him.

Eddie opened his eyes to watch Richie take one, powdered sugar flying everywhere when he bit into it. Eddie laughed, and Richie looked down at him, licking his lips.

“What?” He asked, “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got sugar on your face.” Eddie said, and Richie rubbed at his cheek.

“Here?”

“No, here.” Eddie sat up and brushed the sugar out of Richie’s moustache with his finger.  

Richie caught his eye as he did it, and Eddie suddenly had the sudden urge to suck the sugar off his finger. Instead he brushed his finger on the carpet, and lay back down again. Stanley shot them both a look, and Eddie decided to ignore it.

“Let’s play sardines!” Beverly announced when she came back into the room, swaying slightly, and the other Losers groaned.

“Sardines?” Eddie asked, “What’s sardines?”

“It’s a stupid game we used to play as kids.” Richie said, his hand resting on Eddie’s ankle. Eddie thought he could die quite happily like this, drunk with Richie touching him. “Basically, one person hides, and then the rest of us have to search round and try and find them.”

“Sounds interesting.” Eddie said.

“It’s cramped.” Stanley said, “There are too many germs Eddie, you wouldn’t like it.”

“No, I want to try it!” Eddie said gamely, struggling to sit upright. “Let’s do it.”

“It’ll be fun!” Beverly said, turning to Bill and Ben. “Don’t you want to play?”

“I’m up for it.” Ben said quickly, “I’ll finally be able to fit in hiding spots now.”

Bill laughed, slinging one arm around Ben’s shoulders. “Alright.” He said, “Mike, you in?”

“Of course I’m in!” Mike took a swig from the bottle of wine. “Let’s play.”

“Wonderful, wonderful!” Beverly clapped her hands together. “Eddie, you should hide first because you’re the new boy.”

“I thought I was the new kid?” Ben asked, and Beverly laughed and pushed him gently. Another of the inside jokes that Eddie didn’t get.

“Okay, I hide.” Eddie stood upright, swaying. “But how do you win?”

“You lose if you’re the last person to the hiding place.” Richie said, “Which obviously won’t be me, because I’m the best at this, as can be remembered from the Sardine championships of-“

“Beep Beep Richie!” The group all yelled at once, and then fell about laughing, even Richie.

“I’ll go hide!” Eddie announced once they’d finished laughing, “You guys come find me. Or don’t. Because then you’ll lose.”

“You’re adorable.” Beverly said, and pressed her face against Eddie’s leg. “We’ll give you five minutes! Hurry, hurry!”

Eddie ran from the room, laughing, and then spun around, wondering where to go. He clambered up the stairs as quiet as he could, and then entered Beverly’s bathroom, the room that they were all afraid of. He climbed into the bathtub, and then drew the shower curtain across, so nobody could find him.

After five minutes, he heard the group yell “Ready or Not, here we come!” and the sounds of people moving. Eddie placed his hand over his mouth, so that they wouldn’t hear his breathing, and lay there, waiting for someone to find him.

Maybe another five minutes later, the door to the bathroom creaked open. Eddie tried not to let any laughter escape, but couldn’t help it when the shower curtain was pulled back, and Richie’s face appeared.

“Shush shush, they’ll hear us!” He whispered, clambering into the bathtub and drawing the shower curtain across, “We’ve got to be quiet.”

“Quiet.” Eddie repeated, and moved up in the bath so Richie could squeeze in next to him.

“You having fun?” Richie asked, and maybe Eddie had a fever because he felt like he was on fire from being this close to Richie.

“Uh huh.” Eddie said, and Richie grinned at him.

“How much did you have to drink?” He asked, and Eddie shrugged.

“A lot.” He replied, “I’m not used to drinking.”

“Will I have to take you home at the end of the night?” Richie asked, and Eddie nodded.

“Uh huh. In that fancy car of yours.”

“Do you like my car?” Richie asked, and his hand is in Eddie’s hair, playing with the curls.

“I like everything about you.” Eddie says truthfully, “Every little thing.”

“You’re so cute Eds.” Richie said, and his breath tickled Eddie’s ear.

“I told you not to call me that.” Eddie said, turning, and Richie caught his mouth in one swoop, kissing him softly.

Eddie gasped out, pulling back, and Richie blinked, hurt. Eddie stared at Richie, his lips electric, and Richie held up his hands.

“Sorry, sorry- I, uh, I assumed you were into me, but obviously, obviously you’re not! And that’s okay, we can be friends- I hope we can still be friends, because, you know, you’re cool, and-“

Eddie threw himself at Richie, pressing their mouths together hungrily, and this time it was Richie who made a surprised noise. For a moment, Eddie was kissing frozen lips, and then Richie’s brain seemingly went into gear and he kissed Eddie back.

Eddie doesn’t know how it happened, but suddenly he was on Richie’s lap, and Richie was cupping his face in his hands and mumbling stuff that Eddie couldn’t hear. Eddie just kissed, and kissed, and kissed, until everything was numb.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Stanley pulled the shower curtain back.

“Ew, gross!” He exclaimed, and Eddie pulled back, his mouth tingling. “Jesus, could you two get a room?!”

“We have a room!” Richie said, “We were perfectly fine in the bathroom till you came along!”

“What’s happened?” Beverly called, coming along the hallway. “Why is everyone yelling?”

“Trashmouth and Eddie were making out.” Stanley said, and Beverly covered her mouth with her hand in delight. “It’s not funny!”

“This is the best!” She announced delighted, just as the three other boys joined them in the bathroom, faces of confusion.

“Uh,” Eddie said, because he didn’t want an audience. “Hello?”

“Why are we all yelling?” Mike asked, and Beverly pointed at Eddie and Richie.

“They kissed!”

“Fucking finally!” Ben exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “Jesus Richie, we all thought you’d gone celibate.”

“Shut up!” Richie said, his face pink. “You guys are the worst.”

“We’re your friends, we have to be the worst.” Bill said, and Eddie blinked at them owlishly.

“I-“ He said, and then turned to Richie. “You liked me? And you told them?”

“Well yeah?” Richie scratched the back of his head. “I’ve liked you since the moment you walked into the café.”

“Oh.” Eddie said. “Oh!”

He pressed his head into Richie’s shoulder in delight, and Richie wrapped his arm around him, squeezing him.

“This is adorable.” Beverly said in a hallowed whisper. “But if you fuck in my bathroom, I’m going to kill you.”

Eddie laughed, and covered his face with his hands. “I’m so drunk.” He said, and everyone nodded.

“We know.” Bill said. “We can see that.”

“Damn.” Eddie said, and hoped he wouldn’t pass out in Richie’s arms. Although wouldn’t that be romantic?


	9. Throat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a super short chapter because it's nsfw!! so if ur not up for that, u can skip it :D

When Eddie came downstairs, Richie’s hand holding his, his thumb rubbing comforting circles against Eddie’s skin, the reality set in. He paused halfway on the stair, and Richie squeezed his hand comfortingly.

Eddie had just kissed another man. And he had feelings for another man, romantic feelings. So he was gay. Which meant he was infectious. But surely Richie was infectious too? Maybe Richie infected him, and that’s why he felt that way. But no, Eddie had always felt like this.

When he was younger, Eddie was convinced he was adopted. He felt so different to his mother, and when he was still alive, his father. He was sure it was because he wasn’t part of their family, that they’d taken him away from someone else. He spent hours combing every filing cabinet trying to find any sign of any adoption certificate, any sign that he was in the wrong place.

But he never found anything. And as he grew, he looked more and more like his mother, until they were practically the same person, hiding in that old house, swallowing handful and handfuls of pills. But Eddie had got out, hadn’t he? Straight into Myra’s arms.

Everyone was waiting for them downstairs in the living room, grinning like the cat that got the cream. Eddie shrunk into Richie’s side, but Richie seemed nonplussed. This must have happened before, Eddie thought.

 “Hello lovebirds.” Mike said, and Richie flipped him off. Mike laughed, and took a sip of wine. “What?”

“Don’t make any smart comments Micycle.” Richie warned, and Mike pointed at him with the neck of the wine bottle.

“That’s rich coming from you! You never stop making smart comments.” Mike said, and looked over at Eddie. “You still drunk?”

“A little bit.” Eddie said, and squeezed Richie’s hand. “I might go home.”

“I’ll come with you.” Richie said, and Ben wolf whistled from where he was listening in the living room. “Shut up Benjamin!”

“Never!” Ben replied happily, “Tell Bev you’re leaving though. She can give you condoms. Bill can give you lube.”

“Hey, fuck you!” Bill said, and there were the faint sounds of two drunk people trying to hit one another.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Richie said, “Everyone finished making fun of us now?!”

“Of course not!” Ben said. “It’s great making fun of you.”

Eddie laughed and leaned against Richie’s arm. Richie softened, and turned to press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. Eddie shut his eyes happily, and then opened them again when Beverly made an ‘aww’ noise.

“What?!” He asked, and she grinned at him.

“Nothing!” She said, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So Richie, are you taking Eddie home? Going to make an honest man of him?”

Eddie felt his heart race a little, and he detangled his fingers from Richie’s. “You’re so rude Bev.” He said, and she shrugged.

“You love it.” She said, but Eddie could tell that something in her voice had changed, and she knew he was uncomfortable. “Ring me when you get home, okay?”

“Yeah, today or tomorrow morning.” Bill said, and was elbowed in the side by Ben. “Ow!”

Eddie laughed, stepping forward to kiss Bev on the cheek. “I promise I’ll ring.”

Bev smiled and pulled him into a hug. “You’re allowed to say no.” She whispered so nobody else could hear. “It’s okay.”

“I know.” He whispered back and hugged her back tightly.

They said their goodbyes quickly, mainly because everyone else was getting more drunk, and therefore more carefree. People kept slapping him on the back and making filthy comments, and eventually Bev just herded Richie and Eddie out the door with a grin and a wink.

Eddie and Richie walked down the steps to the house in silence. Richie caught Eddie’s hand again as they stepped out onto the street, and Eddie instantly felt that all eyes were on them. He looked about, expecting to see faces pressed against windows, glaring at them. Instead, the street was still and silent.

“I can let go.” Richie said quietly, “If you’re nervous?”

 Eddie shook his head.

“I like holding your hand.” He replied, and pulled Richie closer to lean against him. They stood there for a moment, breathing against one another, and then Richie pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Richie asked, “I can, if you want me to. It’s okay, I know that it’s weird, and you might not be used to this-“

“Did you honestly like me?” Eddie asked. “When you first saw me? Seriously?”

“Yes.” Richie said, and Eddie could tell that he wasn’t lying. “When you walked in, and you looked so professional, and you had your fancy coat on, and your glasses, and your curly hair-“

Eddie tugged Richie down by his shirt collar, pulling him into a long kiss. He thought it would be uncomfortable to have Richie’s moustache against his face, but he found he didn’t mind it, not when Richie kissed back.

Richie’s hands moved down Eddie’s side, and squeezed his waist, and Eddie’s mouth fell open in pleasure. Richie took that as an opportunity to slide his tongue inside Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie made a noise he didn’t know he could make.

Someone from inside Beverley’s house banged on the window, and they both jumped. They turned to see Stan peering at them, who drew a line across his throat. Richie rolled his eyes, and deliberately smacked Eddie on the ass. Eddie squeaked, jumping up in the air, and Stanley rolled his eyes and shut the curtains.

“Asshole.” Richie muttered, and then looked at Eddie. “So. Your place or mine?”

“Yours.” Eddie said firmly. “I want to go to yours.”

Richie smiled at him, and Eddie felt like he was flying.

Richie’s house was huge. It was all white, with a sizable garden out front, and a garage that swung open as Richie’s car approached. Eddie supposed the money from the radio station helped pay for it, he didn’t think the proceeds from the café would be enough. Richie seemed to give out free food more than he asked for money for it.

Still, it was an impressive house. As Richie pulled into the garage, Eddie wondered if he came from old money, who his parents were. Then he wondered if he was being courted by some kind of sugar daddy, and he laughed, breaking the quiet atmosphere.

The two of them had been sitting in silence on the drive home, Eddie buzzing with both fear and excitement. Whenever they got to a traffic light, Richie would reach over and take hold of Eddie’s hand, squeeze it tight, and then bring it to his mouth to kiss. Eddie thinks that there could be a thousand poems, a thousand stories, a thousand songs, but none that could completely capture the moment of having your hand kissed by Richie Tozier.

He felt like he was going to vomit over his shoes, or lose himself and end up climbing on Richie’s lap to make out with him. The image of that made him clench his fists, the idea of Richie pulling over on the side of the road and Eddie sitting on his lap, and kissing and kissing and more.

Richie led him silently into the house, so silently in fact that Eddie was worried that he was trying not to disturb anyone, that Richie had a secret girlfriend or wife. It was weird hearing Richie not talking, and Eddie spoke to fill the silence.

“We can have a drink.” He said, figuring that Richie was having regrets about taking him home. He had seen through him clearly, and didn’t want Eddie here in the first place. “Then I’ll take a cab home-“

Richie turned to him as if Eddie was absolutely _completely_ mental, and pushed him up against the wall. It caught Eddie by surprise, and for a mad second he thought Richie would punch him, but then Richie kissed him so hard that it took Eddie’s breath away. He moaned into Richie’s mouth, and Richie moved to kissing all over Eddie’s face, breathless. Eddie made a pathetic whimpering noise at the back of his throat, and kissed whatever part of Richie he could find, his mouth, his nose, and forehead.

“You idiot,” Richie breathed, “God you fucking idiotic moron Eddie, I want to kiss you so fucking bad, so fucking much.”

Eddie’s hands, which had been flat against the wall in shock, came to life again, and he scrabbled at Richie’s shirt for purchase. Richie pressed him harder against the wall, working his leg between them, and the feel and weight of it sent shocks right through Eddie’s body.

“Ah.” He said quietly, and Richie kissed at his neck, mumbling something he couldn’t hear. Eddie shut his eyes, letting Richie kiss and suck at him.

 “Do you understand?” Richie said suddenly, and Eddie looked at him. “Do you understand, that I want you so badly?”

Eddie tilted his head back, the words seemed to sink into his skin deliciously. “I understand.”

“And do you…?” Richie trailed off, but Eddie nodded his head, catching on.

“I want you too.” He said, and Richie breathed a hot sigh of relief.

“Fuck.” Richie said, mouthing at Eddie’s throat. He started to suck a bruise there, and Eddie realised his knees were about to go out underneath him, and he wrapped his arms around Richie’s head.

“Can’t, stand-” He mumbled, “Go somewhere-“

Richie raised his head, eyes dark with lust. “Bed?” He suggested, and Eddie nodded, afraid and wanting all at once.

Richie’s bedroom was messy, with clothes strewn across the floor. Eddie spotted a pair of blue boxers draped over a chair, and wanted to wear them himself, he wanted to share Richie’s clothes until they became one person. He moved to turn off the lights, but Richie pulled him into a kiss, distracting him.

“Lights.” Eddie said.

“Camera, action.” Richie replied, and Eddie rolled his eyes before gasping out when Richie nibbled on his ear, and then pushed him backwards.

Eddie fell on the bed onto his back, and Richie climbed on top of him, pressing kisses to every place he could see. Eddie moaned, embarrassingly, and then ran his hands through Richie’s hair.

Richie pressed their foreheads together and Eddie could smell his breath and he wanted to lick the inside of Richie’s mouth like an animal. He looked into Richie’s eyes, and Richie looked back into his, and Eddie closed the gap between them and kissed Richie on the mouth. And then he kissed him again and again, till Richie was kissing him back and mumbling nonsense underneath his breath.

“I’ve never done this before.” Eddie whispered, and Richie pulled away, a smile on his face.

“No shit Edward.” He said, and pressed his mouth against Eddie’s. Eddie moaned up into the kiss, arching his back and pushing himself up against Richie.

“Fuck me.” Richie mumbled against his mouth. “Christ, why couldn’t we have done this earlier?”

“Stop- Stop talking,” Eddie said, finding Richie’s glasses and taking them off. “Beep beep Richie.”

“Fuck you.” Richie said, and then his hand found its way down Eddie’s pants, and Eddie couldn’t speak anymore either, and he didn’t want to either.


	10. Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops soz

When Eddie woke up the next morning, it was to Richie snoring beside him. Eddie blinked for a moment, confused, and then all last night’s memories came flooding back, and he curled up into a ball in embarrassed pleasure.

They hadn’t had sex. Eddie had been adamant, he didn’t know what infections lay between the surface, what he could be carrying. He’d expected Richie to argue, or complain, or tell Eddie to leave, but Richie had told him it was fine, and continued kissing Eddie.

Eddie still couldn’t handle how much Richie liked him. There were so many kisses, and soft words, and gentle touches, and Eddie had felt like he was floating above his body, watching everything happen. Eddie had at first been suspicious that Richie might have just taken him home because he wanted a warm body for the night, that he had been lying all this time.

Richie had been between his legs, and Eddie had put his own arm over his face, feeling the heat of his cheeks against the skin of his wrist.

“Hey,” Richie had said, and his voice was hoarse.

“What?” Eddie asked, and he could feel Richie’s palms on his thighs, and it made his stomach do flips. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to see your face.” Richie said, and took one hand off Eddie to pull Eddie’s arm away from his face. “There we go.”

Eddie looked into Richie’s face, and Richie looked back at him, smiling, and then stole a kiss.

“You’re a disaster Eddie.” Richie had said, and Eddie had nodded and kissed him again. “But I love it.”

And now here Eddie was, naked in bed, with Richie beside him. Richie’s arm was slung across Eddie’s chest, and he rolled over so that they were facing one another. Richie was fast asleep, and Eddie peppered little kisses across his unshaven face, before pulling back and admiring him.

So this what it was like to wake up next to someone you love. Eddie wished he had a disposable camera or something, so that he could capture Richie’s sleeping face. Richie’s forehead was knitted, and Eddie reached out and ran his fingers across his brow, featherlight, and soon Richie looked peaceful again.

Eddie didn’t know how long he lay there, watching Richie sleep, but eventually Richie’s eyelids began to flutter and he stretched in the bed. Eddie shut his eyes quickly, pretending to be asleep, and felt Richie’s warm breath on his face and Richie’s lips on his mouth.

Eddie pretended to wake up, yawning, and then opening his eyes to see Richie propped up on one elbow, looking down at him fondly.

“Good morning.” He said, and ruffled Eddie’s hair. “You’ve got fantastic bedhead.”

“Shush.” Eddie said sleepily, “Good morning to you too.”

“You’re cute when you sleep.” Richie said, and stole another kiss. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“I don’t know.” Eddie replied, “What do you want?”

“Well you, preferably.” Richie said, and Eddie’s face went red. “But I’ll settle for toast.”

He climbed out of bed, naked, and Eddie sat up to watch him. Richie had red hair covering his chest, and lower. Eddie found he was kind of into it, he liked the contrast of Richie’s manliness against himself. Richie picked up some underwear from the floor and pulled it on, and then turned back to Eddie.

“Do you want breakfast in bed, or in the kitchen?”

“I’ll come to the kitchen.” Eddie said, getting out of bed as well, and Richie leaned against the wall to watch him. “Don’t stare at me.”

“It’s a good view.” Richie said, and stuck out his tongue, “But I’ll look away.”

Eddie waited until Richie had turned away, hands over his eyes comically. There were a pair of Richie’s boxers on the floor, blue check, and Eddie slipped them on. They were big on him, but he didn’t care, he wanted to have some part of Richie with him.

His shirt was crumpled on the floor, and he smoothed it out with his hands before putting his arms through it, and then buttoning it. He slipped on his pants as well, and when he looked up, Richie was dressed too.

“I thought I told you not to watch.” Eddie said, raising his eyebrow, but he wasn’t too fussed.

“You look good.” Richie said in response, reaching out and pulling Eddie close to him. He buried his nose in Eddie’s curls, and Eddie laughed, shivering.

“I’m wearing the same clothes as yesterday.” He said.

“I know. And you still look good, even when they’re wrinkled and smell.”

“Hey, I don’t smell!” Eddie took a step back, and Richie laughed.

“Yes, you do!”

“What do I smell of then?” Eddie said, annoyed slightly, because he’s a clean person.

“You smell of medication and all of Stanley’s cakes you keep eating,” Richie prodded Eddie in the stomach, “And you also smell of vanilla and that aftershave you wear.”

Eddie considered those things good smells, and caught hold of Richie’s hand, bringing them up to his mouth to kiss. “I accept that.”

“I’m glad.” Richie said, smiling. “Now, breakfast?”

Richie’s kitchen was cleaner and bigger than Eddie expected. It was a pure white colour, much like the rest of the house, with a breakfast bar area, and all the latest weird and wonderful kitchen gadgets. When Eddie looked through his fridge, he found it fully stocked. There was also a bread cabinet where there were loaves and various muffins, and cupboards of ingredients and spices.

“I have a guy that buys all my food for me.” Richie said, when he caught Eddie peering at everything. “And Stanley sometimes comes over and cooks for me because he assumes I’m going to die of starvation at any moment.”

“Stanley’s a good friend.” Eddie said, pulling eggs out of the fridge. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Fried? But you really don’t have to cook, I can do it.” Richie said, and Eddie shook his head.

“I don’t trust other people making eggs for me.”

“You little perfectionist.” Richie said, and Eddie thought that it was more fear of poisoning than perfectionism. “Okay. Seduce me with your egg making skills.”

“I thought I’d already seduced you?” Eddie asked, and Richie grinned.

“Seduce me a little more. I’m not quite convinced yet.”

They ate breakfast in the living room, curled up around each other like love struck teenagers. Eddie tried not to focus on eating, tried to focus on Richie’s body warm against his, but it all got too much and he inspected and counted every mouthful, rolling it around in his mouth before he swallowed.

“You make good eggs.” Richie said, and stole a forkful of scrambled eggs from Eddie’s plate. “Fancy coming to work for me in the café?”

“No.” Eddie said, “I like what I do at home.”

“Ah, yes.” Richie said. “Home.”

Eddie shut his eyes, trying to block out Myra. “I don’t want to think about it.” He said, placing his half-finished plate on the table, and turning to face Richie.

“What do you want to do then?” Richie asked, and Eddie shrugged.

“Talk. Kiss.”

“I like what you’re giving me Kaspbrak.” Richie said, and then tapped Eddie on the nose. “You’re hired!”

“You’re such an idiot.” Eddie said fondly, and kissed him. “I hate your moustache.”

“That just gives me even more incentive to keep it.” Richie said, returning the kiss. “You should grow one too. You could have a fancy one, like Salvador Dali.”

“I don’t want a fancy moustache.” Eddie said, “And I’m not a surrealist painter.”

“We could be a cool couple.” Richie continued, “We’d put Stanley and Ben’s facial hair to shame.”

“I’m not getting into a facial hair competition with your friends.” Eddie said, and Richie poked him.

“Hey, they’re your friends too now! You’re part of the Loser’s Club now, a card-carrying member.”

“Oh great.” Eddie said, but he was secretly thrilled. “Guess I’m stuck with you then?”

“I guess you are.” Richie smiled, and leaned in to kiss Eddie.

Richie dropped Eddie home in the afternoon, after they’d wasted half the morning. It was a good day to drive, the wind sending Eddie’s curls all over the place, but hot enough that he could relax and not worry about anything. Richie put the radio on and cranked it up loud, and he sang the entire drive home, Eddie joining in whenever he knew the lyrics.

It would become one of Eddie’s favourite moments to remember, in an open topped car with the Beach Boys playing, and Richie’s hand tangled in his.

Richie pulled up outside the house, and they sat there for a moment, enjoying the silence. Eddie didn’t want to let go off Richie’s hand, nor did he want to kiss him goodbye. Instead he sat there like a lemon, squeezing Richie’s hand.

“This isn’t goodbye.” Richie said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I know it isn’t goodbye.” Eddie said. “I’ll still miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Richie said, sounding pleased. “Give me a kiss goodbye?”

Eddie leaned across, kissing him sweetly. Richie kissed back, letting go of Eddie’s hand so that he could instead run it through Eddie’s hair, tugging lightly at the curls. Eddie laughed against Richie’s mouth, letting him do it.

And then the screen door opened and someone stepped out.

“Eddie?!” Myra called, and Eddie’s eyes widened in shock before he wrenched himself away from Richie, almost falling backwards. Richie stared at him, in confusion, and Eddie tore his eyes away from Richie.

“Eds, is that you?”

“It’s me!” He called, voice hoarse, and he coughed loudly, already clambering out of the car. “Sorry-“

They met each other halfway on the sidewalk, Myra big and bouncy and Eddie small and contained. She was wearing a pink dress that gave the impression of making her look like a fancy blancmange, and her nails were painted the same colour.

She grabbed hold of his face between her hands and kissed him square on the mouth, Eddie recoiling. “I thought I’d come and surprise you!”

“It’s certainly a surprise!” Eddie said, distraught. “Why are you here?”

“Your house is a mess!” Myra said, “I tripped over a box of your stupid records on the landing, look!”

She flung out a flabby arm, revealing a pale bruise. Eddie opened his mouth to speak, but then Myra was looking past him and at the car.

“Hey, is that Richie Tozier? Hey!” She moved past him and onto the road, proffering Richie her hand. “Hi, I’m a big fan!”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Richie said, and Eddie was staring at him desperately. “Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Eddie’s girlfriend.” She said, and then giggled, high pitched. “Soon to be wife!”

She turned to face Eddie. “Your mother told me about you planning to propose! Sorry if it spoils the surprise, but at least now we can have a big elaborate public proposal, and pretend it’s spontaneous.”

Eddie felt all the colour drain from his face, and thought he was about to collapse. Richie was staring at him, and the look would have been enough to curdle milk.

“It was nice meeting you.” Richie told Myra. “I didn’t know about you.”

“Eddie is crazy about me.” Myra said, and Eddie sat down hard on the edge of the curb in complete horror. “It was so lovely meeting you though. Big fan, as I said!”

“Ha.” Richie said, and started the car. “See you then.”

“Richie, I-“ Eddie started, bile rising in his throat, and Richie shook his head.

“Save it.” He said, and pulled away, the car screeching as he went.

“Well-“ Myra started, as Eddie threw up over his shoes. “Oh, fuck! Really Eddie? Now?”

Eddie stared down at the pool of vomit, and then threw up again. Richie hated him, Richie hated him so much, Richie despised him, because Eddie was a liar and a cheat and a horrible disgusting person who didn’t deserve-

A shadow fell over him. He looked up to see Myra standing over him.

“You have vomit on your chin.” She said, disgusted. “Jesus, what’s wrong with you?”

“Go away.” He said.

“What?” Myra asked, as if she didn’t hear him. “What did you say?”

“I said go away Myra!” Eddie said louder, “Just, leave, okay? I’m not well, and you just- You just ruined something.”

Myra laughed. “What did I just ruin? Your proposal announcement?”

“I wasn’t going to propose.”

“Yeah you were.” Myra said, “I know you. You came up here to get the ring, don’t fob me off with any bullshit.”

“I wasn’t going to propose.” Eddie repeated, and looked up at her. “I’m not- I don’t want to marry you Myra!”

“Why not?” She put her hands on her hips. “Face it Eddie, you’re not getting any fucking younger. Who’d want to marry you?”

A door across the street opened, and an old lady came out. “Could you do your yelling someplace else?!” She called, and Myra flipped her off.

“Fuck you!” She yelled back, and then nudged Eddie with her foot. “Come on. Let’s go inside. Do you promise not to vomit everywhere?”

“I promise.” Eddie said, pulling himself to his feet, and they looked at one another.

Myra broke the gaze first, shaking her head. “God,” She said, “Eddie Kaspbrak. You fucking piece of shit.”

Eddie agreed with her.

 


	11. Bile

Eddie’s mother was waiting for them in the hallway, clearly having had her ear against the door, watching them. Someone had dressed her and washed her hair, and it hung loose around her shoulders, completely grey.

“What do you mean you’re not getting married?” She asked, and Eddie pushed past her into the living room. “Eddie?”

Eddie paced the room, tugging at his hair until it hurt. Richie was never going to want to see him again. Richie probably despised him. And he’d go back to the Losers, and tell them Eddie was a liar and a cheat, and Stan would have to admit that he knew all along, that he knew Eddie was lying, and then Richie and Stan would fight, and then-

“We’re getting married.” Myra blocked the entire doorframe with her size. “Like it or not. I already told my mother.”

“Well tell her that the weddings off.” Eddie said, “We can’t get married.”

“We are!” Myra took a step forward and Eddie shrunk back. “We are going to get married, like it or not Kaspbrak.”

It felt like she was jabbing him in the chest with every word with her painful fake nails. Eddie was scared of her, but he thought that maybe, deep down, she was scared of him.

Eddie shook his head. “We can’t get married.”

“Why not?” Myra asked.

“I’m having an affair.” Eddie said, and it’s not lying because he is, and Myra snorted, snot literally coming out of her nose, and Eddie recoiled, disgusted.

“No you’re not. Nobody else would want you.”

“Someone wants me.” Eddie said, thinking of the feeling of Richie smiling as he kissed him. “Someone does.”

“No girl in their right mind would want you, I’m the only fucking girl on this planet that loves you.”

“It’s not a girl.”

“Is it Beverly?” Myra asked, and Eddie blinked.

“I never told you about Beverly.” He said, stupidly.

“Your mom did.” Myra said, and pointed towards the hallway. “When she called me. She said you were hanging out with some slut named Beverly, and I didn’t believe her because I trusted you-“

“You’ve never trusted me in all the years we’ve known each other!” Eddie said, “You keep tabs on everything I do!”

“Because you can’t be trusted!” Myra said, “You’ve just called off our fucking engagement-“

“I’m gay!” Eddie shouted, finally, and Myra’s mouth opened and closed like a flopping fish. “I’m gay, Myra. I don’t love you, and I can’t love you!”

“What?” Myra said, practically spitting the words, “What?”

“I’m gay.” Eddie said, the words tumbling from his mouth. “I like Richie, because- I love him. And I want to be with him.”

“Richie Tozier?!” Myra said, “You’re fucking Richie Tozier?”

Eddie folded his arms across his chest. “Yes. Yes I am.”

“Bullshit. Richie isn’t gay.” Myra said, eyes flashing dangerously.

Eddie reached for his shirt collar, tugging it down hard to reveal a hickey. “Who gave me this then?” He asked her, “I was with Richie last night, and I slept with him, and I’m still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, ask anyone!”

Myra spluttered, staring at the dark bruise on his neck. Eddie is breathing hard, but he knows he doesn’t need his inhaler, he’s just so angry.

“You fucking disgusting freak.” Myra said, and then was pushed aside by Eddie’s mother coming into the room.

She stared at Eddie, with a mixture of shock and horror. Eddie let go of his shirt collar, wetting his lips, and stared her back down.

“I thought you’d got over this.” She said, tears welling in her eyes. “I thought I’d given you enough pills over the years that I’d have cured you-“

“What?” Eddie asked, and his mother buried her face in her hands.

“I tried to fix you!” She said, and then turned to Myra. “I’m so sorry, I tried, I tried for you to make him normal, but it didn’t work- I tried so hard.”

Eddie shook his head, incredulously. “All those pills you gave me? All those stupid pills you forced down my throat? They were to try and make me _straight_?!”

“I knew ever since you were born that there was something wrong with you-“

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” Eddie exploded. “I’m normal, I’m fine, I’m not _infected_!”

He took a step back, shocked by his own words. His entire life, he’s been telling himself that he was infected, that he had some sort of disease that was lurking below the surface, ready to leap out at any moment.

But maybe Eddie wasn’t infected. Maybe he was just gay, and maybe that was okay, and maybe he didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone.

“What pills did you give me?”

“What did I do wrong?” His mother asked, staring up at him. “Was I over protective? Was it because your father died? Was it the home schooling?”

“What pills did you give me?!” Eddie repeated, and she ran her hands through her wet hair.

“Just- They were herbal. They were meant to fix your internal balance.” She said, and Eddie took a step back. “I ruined you when you were a child, I made you this way.”

“You didn’t _make_ me this way.” Eddie said, “You didn’t do anything to _make_ me gay.”

“I must have done something.” She said, and Eddie shook his head.

“I’ve always been like this.” He said, and he almost wanted to comfort her, and he also wanted to hurt her.

Pills. So many of his stupid fucking pills, shoved down his throat every single day, and he took them dutifully because he trusted her. He trusted her to make him better, to cure all of his stupid illnesses that didn’t even exist.

Myra was still looking at him like she wanted to grind him up under her heel.

“I’ve slept with you.” She said, through gritted teeth. “We’ve been in the same bed.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie said, “I’m sorry, I tried to love you.”

“Didn’t fucking work, did it?” Myra snapped, and there were tears in her eyes. “I wasted years of my life with you.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say. Instead he ran his shoes over the carpet, and pretended that the two women weren’t looking at him. His heart was hammering in his chest, and it felt like it was about to explode outwards.

“You’re not coming back to the house.” Myra said.

“All my things are there.” Eddie said, not looking up at her.

“I’ll burn your things.” Myra said, “They’ve probably got AIDS on them anyway.”

Eddie cringed, and glanced at her. “I haven’t got AIDS. Or HIV.”

“I’m not taking my chances, not with someone like you.” She sneered, and then ran her hands through her dark hair. “How many men have you slept with?”

“I didn’t sleep with Richie.” Eddie said, and Myra laughed, “I just- I spent the night with him. I kissed him and-“

“Did you suck his cock?” Myra asked, so brutally, and Eddie’s mother gasped, covering her ears with her hands.

Eddie didn’t reply.

“I asked you a fucking question Edward.” Myra said.

“Yes.” Eddie said quietly, and Myra spat at his feet.

“You’re fucking disgusting, you sick man.” She said, “Did he suck yours?”

“Yes.” Eddie said, and Myra slapped him so hard across the face that he saw stars.

Eddie staggered backwards, the backs of his legs hitting the sofa, and he sat down hard. His head spun, white dots blurring his vision, and he leant forward, pressing his cold hands against his temple, trying to ground his headache.

 “I’m going out.” Myra said. “I need to get away from this fucking house.”

Eddie agreed with her, but didn’t say it. “Okay.”

“I didn’t ask for your fucking permission.” Myra said, and turned and stalked from the room.

Eddie and his mother stayed deathly still, listening to Myra’s heavy footfall as she walked along to the door. They heard her open it, pulling it open so hard that it hit against the wall, and when she slammed it shut, the whole house shook. Eddie finally let himself breathe.

One half of his brain was screaming at him that he was a disgusting dirty man, that he needed to be cleansed, that there was bleach in the kitchen cabinet that he needed to pour down his throat, needed to bathe in, needed to wipe Richie’s scent and touch from him.

And the other half of him was happy, and relieved.

He looked over to his mother, who was crying quietly, and then reached out and touched her lightly on the side. Eddie was scared she was going to push him away, but instead she rested her hand over his.

“Do you hate me?” He asked her.

She looked down at him, tears streaking her face. “I could never hate you.” She said. “Dislike you, yes. Hate you, no.”

“I hate you.” Eddie told her, and she took a shaky breath. “I hate you so much. You ruined my life.”

“I thought I could fix you.”

“There wasn’t anything to be fixed.” Eddie said. “There still isn’t anything to be fixed.”

“But you’re gay-“

“And?” Eddie asked her, “And? What’s bad about that?”

His mother didn’t answer.

“Ma?” He asked, “What’s bad about me being gay?”

“I don’t know.” She answered, and Eddie stood up, his knees clicking.

“Are you disgusted by me?” He asked, and she didn’t reply for a moment.

“Can I hug you?” She asked suddenly, and Eddie blinked.

“Okay?” He said, and she stepped forward into his arms, burrowing her face into his shoulder. Eddie wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, but gentle, and let her cry against his shirt.

“Are you angry I’m not going to get married to Myra?”

She nodded her head.

“I’m sorry.” He said, and touched her hair lightly, it was still damp from the shower.

“I’ll never have grandchildren.” She mumbled.

“You don’t even like children.” Eddie pointed out. “Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise?”

She looked up at him, frowning, and Eddie offered her a smile. She shook her head quietly, and then reached up and touched him on the face.

“Am I a bad mother?” She asked.

Eddie hesitated for a second, but she saw straight through him, nodded.

“Okay,” She said, “Okay.”

And they stood there for a while longer, holding one another.


	12. Suitcase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i rewrote bits of this chapter at midnight last night on a shitty computer, pls forgive me

Myra didn't come back to the house that night, not that Eddie was complaining. When he had walked upstairs to his bedroom, he had found her suitcase spilled out on the bed, her clothes hanging on the back of the wardrobe like skins. There was lacy underwear in the suitcase too, huge red things, you could almost use the push up bras as a buoyancy aid if need be.

Eddie had sat down on the bed, as far away from the suitcase as possible, and leaned back until his head connected to the wall. There was a slight dent, when Eddie was younger, and angry, and confused, he used to slam his head against the wall until it hurt too much to breathe. He always felt it was a better self harming method than cutting, using a razor led to infections, and mess, and Eddie couldn't deal with it.

Seeing the open suitcase reminds Eddie of when his father died. He barely can remember his father, only seeing a soft and blurry shape when he tries to picture his face. His father was kind, he knows that. He can remember quiet bedtime stories, and cuddles, and a hand ruffling his hair whenever Eddie crept into his parents bedroom with nightmares.

After his father had died, Eddie had stolen into his parents bedroom. It had been in disarray, with suitcases and boxes everywhere, his father's things thrown about the room in grief. Eddie had sat on the bed, and stroked his father's shirts, pulling them up to his nose to smell. His father had smelt of mint toothpaste, and a tobacco pipe, and Eddie had held the shirts tight and realised for the first time, what death was.

He had cried, soaking his father's shirt with tears, and he was still crying when his mother found him, and they had sat on the bed, Eddie's hand in hers, and they had cried together, and never spoke of it again.

Myra had seemingly brought up one of Eddie's teenage photos from the living room and placed it on the bedside table. In the photo, Eddie is barely 14, awkward and uncomfortable in his new teenage body. His hair is still fair, starting to go curly at the edges, and he's looking at the camera shyly, a faint blush on his cheeks. He had known he was gay at that point, even then. He supposed that he had always known that he was gay.

Eddie reached out and touched the glass that covered the photograph, leaving a smudge. “Hello,” He said to his younger self. “It's me.”

He paused, wetting his lips. “It's going to be okay.” He continued, “You might not know it now, but it's going to be okay.”

Eddie thought of Myra slapping him across the face, and of Richie's expression of hatred, and of how his mother had been poisoning him to try and make him straight. And then he thought of how he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders, that the stone he had been carrying on his back since births had finally been shrugged off.

“I'm sorry.” He told the photograph, “I'm so sorry.”

Eddie continued to sit there, quietly, until the stinging in his head had stopped.

When Eddie arrived at Richie’s café the next day, there was no sign of Richie. Eddie hovered in the doorway, wondering if he should turn around and leave, pretend that he was never there in the first place. There are only a few customers that day, chatting happily in their own seperate corners.

Eddie and his mother were talking, but not really. They weren’t arguing with each other, although they weren’t talking like they used to. They had spent the day indoors together, watching old re-runs of a show she liked, and Eddie had written letters to various people at work. It was nice, methodical, and Eddie could pretend that the Richie thing wasn’t happening, even though it felt like his heart was breaking inside.

Eddie finally made the decision to walk up to the front counter of the café, waiting to see if Richie would materialise, scowling, so Eddie could apologise, beg for forgiveness. He knew he had done a horrible, awful, thing, and he needed to make it right.

“He’s not here.”

Eddie turned to see Ben standing there behind the counter. He’d never seen such an angry expression on Ben’s face, and one of disappointment. There was a brief moment of silence, and then Eddie spoke.

“Where is he?” Eddie asked, and Ben shook his head.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Ben-“ Eddie started, and Ben interrupted.

“He doesn’t want to speak to you.” Ben said, and then rubbed his beard. “Geez Eddie. You didn’t tell him you had a wife?”

“She- We’re not married.” Eddie said, “And we broke up. Yesterday.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” Ben said. “You still didn’t tell him.”

“I know.” Eddie said, looking at his feet. “That's why I want to speak to him. To tell him I'm sorry.”

Ben took a deep breath, and then exhaled loudly, blowing air out of his cheeks. “I know what it's like to hide parts of yourself.”

Eddie blinked. “You're... bisexual?”

“Well yeah, that.” Ben laughed awkwardly, and then motioned to himself. “Not born like this either.”

It took Eddie a few seconds to get it, and then he flushed. “Oh.” He said, “I- I'm sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?”

“I don't know.” Eddie said, and tapped his fingers on the table. “I'm glad you know what it's like though.”

“I do, Christ I do.” Ben said. “But I still think you should have told Richie about it before you slept with him.”

“How did you know we slept together?” Eddie asked anxiously, fingers flying to his collar in case it had revealed the bruises underneath.

“Because he told me.” Ben said, and raised his eyebrow. “We do hang out when you’re not around.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie said, “I- You know. Sorry.”

“You apologise a lot.” Ben said, and then sighed, reaching out and touching Eddie’s arm. “Listen. Richie’s really upset, okay? He really liked you. And he has the right to be angry.”

“I know.” Eddie said quietly. “Is there any way I can make it up to him?”

Ben shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sure you can figure something out though.”

“I hope so.” Eddie said, and Ben squeezed his arm.

“Good luck.” He said, just as the café door was flung open. Eddie turned, half expecting to see Richie, but instead it's Bevery.

She's soaked through from the rain, wearing a bright yellow raincoat that clashes with her red hair. She's also wearing green wellington boots that she stamps down on the mat, and she shrugs off the raincoat like it was a second skin.

Ben turned to look at her, entire face lighting up at the sight of her. Eddie wondered if that was what he looked like when he looked at Richie, the same lightbulb moment when you see someone you love.

“I’ve come to take over your shift.” Beverly said cheerily, and then noticed Eddie. “Oh, hello there. Heartbreaker.”

“Bev, play nice.” Ben said wearily, but still gazing at her like she was the best thing he had ever seen.

Bev on the other hand, stared Eddie down. Eddie ducked his head to avoid her eyeline, and she sighed loudly, hanging up her coat on the rack. Rain drips from it onto the floor, leaving puddles on the floor.

“God, both of you are pathetic.” She said, and then walked across to them. “Look at you, moping.”

She pinched him on the cheek, and Eddie let her, leaning into the soft touch. She hummed under her breath, and then patted him on the forehead.

“You hurt my best friend.” She said. “I hope you realise that.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” Eddie told her, “I lo- Like him. A lot.”

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt him.” Bev told him, and ruffled his hair. “But Richie’s still probably listening to the Beach Boys somewhere and crying into his pillow.”

Eddie blinked. “What did you say?”

“That Richie's sad somewhere?” Beverly asked, and Eddie shook his head.

“No, the specifics?” He said, and Beverly pulled a face, looking at Ben.

“Uh, he'd be crying into his pillow? Listening to the Beach Boys?”

“Exactly.” Eddie said, and brought his hand up to his face to bite his nails. “Okay.”

Ben and Bev blinked at him.

“What?” Ben asked, and Eddie shook his head, already starting to button up his coat.

“Nothing. I just- I know what I’m going to do.” He said.

“Okay?” Bev asked amused, “Does it involve anything illegal?”

“No.” Eddie said, and she laughed.

“Then what’s the point?” She asked, and Eddie gave her a soft smile.

“I'm sorry Bev.” He said, and kissed her cheek. “I'll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay.” Beverly said, and Eddie reached across and clasped Ben's hand, squeezing it tight.

“I'll see you soon.” Eddie said, and then ran out into the rain.

Eddie didn’t even bother closing the front door when he dashed back inside his house, leaving it wide open. He could hear music playing in the kitchen, the faint sounds of the blues. One of Eddie's early memories is of his mother singing to him when he was little, her voice quavering as she stroked his hair.

Eddie walks into the kitchen and finds his mother standing by the counter, humming quietly. She was covered in flour, the bag might have exploded when she had opened it. There was meat on the counter, fresh, and various spices.

“Eddie?” She asked, and Eddie skidded into the kitchen to kiss her hello.

“Hey Ma.” He said, stopping to admire that she was making food from scratch. In the back of his head, he wondered what else she was putting into it, if she had more of those pills to make him straight. “What are you doing?”

“A meat pie.” She replied, “For later.” She touched her nose, spreading flour across it.

“That sounds lovely.” Eddie said, “Do you know where I put all of father’s things?”

“Upstairs, on the landing.” His mother replied, and then frowned. “Why?”

“No reason.” Eddie said, and squeezed her hand tightly. “I’ll be back later, promise.”

“Okay?” She asked, confused. “Is everything alright Edward?”

“Fine.” Eddie said, “Or, it will be. Maybe. I don’t know.”

And with that, he left the kitchen, and ran up the stairs.

A little over half an hour later, Eddie was hailing a cab, clutching a large package under his arm. A yellow taxi pulled up alongside him, and he bustled into it, flicking wet tendrils of hair out of his face.

“Where you going sweetheart?” The female driver asked, looking over her shoulder at him. It was a shock to see a female taxi driver, but Eddie didn’t want to comment for fear of offending her.

Eddie leaned forward to speak. “Do you know where Richie Tozier lives?” He asked.

“The radio host?”

Eddie nodded. “That’s him.”

“Sure I do!” She paused. “Friend or fan?”

“Friend.” Eddie said, and then lied. “Childhood friends. I grew up around here.”

“Which part?” She asked, pulling the car away from the side of the road. Eddie told her where he lived, and she clucked her teeth. “Know it well. Lots of old ladies live there now. It’s quite sad, don’t you think?”

“A little.” Eddie replied. “Are you from Derry?”

“Yeah, I’m from Neibolt area.” The woman said, and waved in the general direction. “It’s awful.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie said, and she laughed.

“Oh, don’t be sorry! I couldn’t help where I was born.” The woman put on a high pitched squeaky voice, which Eddie assumed was her impression was a baby. “Mother! Please go into labour right now on Neibolt street.”

Eddie laughed politely, and she laughed too, loudly. “Ah, it would be weird, wouldn’t it?” She said.

“Yes, it would.” Eddie replied, and looked out of the window at rain streaked Derry.

“Why are you visiting Richie Tozier?” The driver asked, and Eddie ran his fingers along the package he was holding.

“We got into a fight.” He said, “I’m trying to patch things up.”

“Oh. What did you fight about?”

“There was a misunderstanding.” Eddie said, “It was all my fault.”

“It’s good for you to take responsibility.” She said.

“I suppose.” Eddie replied, and they fell into silence.

The cab driver dropped Eddie off outside the gates of Richie’s house, and Eddie stood outside in the rain, searching for the intercom. He found it eventually, half covered by the plants growing on Richie’s garden wall.

He pressed the button to request to be let in, and it shrieked loudly, and then crackled to life.

“Bill, if that’s you, I don’t want to see anyone.” Richie said, his voice muffled and crackly.

“It’s not Bill.” Eddie said, “It’s me.”

The intercom fell silent. Eddie turned towards the gates to see if they had opened, but instead there was nothing.

Eddie pressed the intercom again, loudly.

“I don’t want to see you.” Richie said.

“Richie, please. We need to talk.” Eddie said, and again the line went dead. The rain was getting heavier, and Eddie clutched the package underneath his coat so it wouldn’t get damaged.

He pressed the intercom, but Richie didn’t reply. He pressed it again, and again, until finally Richie’s voice came snapping over the speaker.

“Piss off Edward.”

“Richie Tozier.” Eddie said, “If you don’t let me in now, I’m going to keep pressing the button.”

“Christ.” Richie said, and there was a bleeping noise of the gate opening. “Five minutes. Then you’re leaving.”

“Thank you.” Eddie said, “You won’t regret it.”

 


	13. Records

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's the end!!! woo!! you've dealt with my bullshit for a week, congratulations!!
> 
> thank u to everyone who commented, i love u all and i would give u smooches if i could.
> 
> <33

The intercom went dead. Eddie hurried towards the gate, slipping through them even though they weren’t fully open yet, and then practically ran up the path to get out of the rain. It was getting heavier, and Eddie managed to get under the porch before it started to really bucket down, puddles forming on the ground on impact.

The front door opened, and Richie stood there in a pair of faded jeans and a tie-dye shirt that had seen better days. Eddie wanted to press himself against Richie and kiss him, and whisper how sorry he was, but he restrained himself.

“Hello.” He said, and offered Richie a smile.

“What do you want?” Richie asked, and crossed his arms.

“Can I come in?” Eddie said.

“Why should I let you into my house?” Richie asked, and Eddie fidgeted on the front step.

“I’m cold.” He said, “But we can talk out here if you want, it’s up to you.”

“God.” Richie said, and held the door open a little wider so that Eddie could get inside the house.

Eddie stepped inside, wiping his feet on the welcome mat, dripping rain water onto the carpet. He shook his head, water flying everywhere, and then bit his lip as Richie walked past him, towards the kitchen.

“I know you’re angry.” He started, and Richie scoffed.

“Angry doesn’t cover it Kaspbrak.” He said, pulling a bottle of scotch out of the cupboard and poured himself a glass.

“I lied to you.” Eddie said. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t realise that you liked me in that way, otherwise I would have told you that I had a girlfriend, right from the very beginning.”

“And what if you had realised that I liked you?” Richie asked, and knocked back the scotch in one. “What if you realised that I wanted to make out with you, would you still have told me? Or would you have kept your little secret?”

“Of course I would have told you.” Eddie said, “I like you- But I wouldn’t have led you along. Richie, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t believe you.” Richie said.

“I’m telling the truth.”

“Even if you knew I liked you, you would have kept Myra secret.” Richie said, pointing a finger at Eddie. “Because this all would have been new, and exciting, and I would have been your little gay fling, and then you would have flounced back home and never told anyone about this.”

“I wouldn’t have.” Eddie said desperately. “I promise- Richie, I liked you. I still like you. I wouldn’t have wanted to hurt you.”

“Well you did.” Richie said, and Eddie couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Richie hopped up on the kitchen counter, and swung his legs back and forth for a moment before bringing them to a halt. “You’ve said your piece Kaspbrak. Time for you to go back to your little straight lifestyle with Myra.”

“We’ve broken up.” Eddie said, “She didn’t come back to the house last night. She’s spending my money on hotel rooms.”

“Good.” Richie laughed. “Hope she bleeds you dry.”

“Richie.” Eddie said despairingly, and Richie raised an eyebrow.

“What?” He asked. “You’ll go back to her. I know your type, you’ll go flying back to her because you can’t deal with being out.”

“I came out to my mother.” Eddie said.

“Good for you.” Richie said, “And you’ll still go back to Myra. Jesus, do you even realise she’s the carbon copy of your mother?”

Eddie took a step forward and Richie held up his hand. Eddie stopped short.

“Don’t try and kiss me.” Richie said. “To prove your love to me, or something, okay? Just don’t.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Eddie said. “I wouldn’t force myself on you.”

“Wonderful.” Richie said, and then clapped his hands together. “Are we done now?”

Eddie blinked back tears, and then nodded. “We’re done.” He said, and placed the package on the table. “This is for you, by the way. I hope you don’t mind.”

“What is it?” Richie asked, picking it up, but Eddie was already walking away. “Hey, don’t ignore me.”

“I’m not ignoring you, I just figured you didn’t want to hear me speak.” Eddie said, not looking back at him because he didn’t want to see Richie’s face.

“Well I want to know what this package is.” Richie said.

“It’s the All Summer Long album by the Beach Boys.” Eddie said, and Richie twisted it in his hands, removing the packaging.

“It’s got writing on it.” He said, “Why would you give me this?”

“It’s the original band signatures.” Eddie said, standing by the front door. “My father got it signed, back in the day. I don’t have any need for it, and he’s dead, so why not give it to you?”

“To me?”

Eddie shrugged, and then opened the door. “You can throw it away if you want.”

“Eddie this would sell for hundreds of dollars.” Richie started.

“Do what you want with it.” Eddie said, “I don’t care.”

And with that he walked out into the rain.

There was no way that Eddie could hail a cab from outside Richie’s house, the road was deserted. Eddie shoved his hands into his pockets and started to walk towards town, rain splattering his glasses and his coat, and in fact, just everything he was wearing. He had forgotten to bring an umbrella.

At least with the rain falling then nobody could tell he was crying. Not much, but enough that his breathing was shaky. Richie didn’t want to see him again then. Under no circumstances did Richie ever want to date him, or even look at him again.

Eddie supposed he should be fine with this, it was only a one night stand. He shouldn’t be so worked up over it. He wondered if Richie did this sort of thing all the time, taking boys and girls home to fuck them and leave them. He wondered if this was why Richie was being so cruel.

But then, he knows why Richie is upset. He can’t deny that he was in the wrong, no matter how he could try and spin it. Eddie had fucked up. And now he had to live with that. It was just the thought of coming out to his mother, and Myra, and for what? He might as well have stayed hidden in the closet.

There were footsteps coming up behind him fast, and Eddie stepped to the side so that they could pass him. Instead, they slowed down and grabbed hold of his arm, and Eddie hit them hard in the face with the back of his hand.

“Fuck Kaspbrak.” Richie said, and Eddie gave an internal shriek of alarm at the fact he had just hit him. “Warn a guy before you sock him in the jaw?”

“Sorry- Sorry!” Eddie said, jumping backwards to give Richie space, “I didn’t know who you were, I thought you were trying to attack me.”

“Well I wasn’t at the time.” Richie grumbled, touching his face, “Now I will.”

He took his hand away from his cheek, displaying a red mark where Eddie had hit him. Eddie wanted to reach up and gently touch it, but refrained. He didn’t think Richie would care for Eddie’s hands on him. Richie was soaked through to the skin already, and Eddie wrapped his arms around himself, shoving his hands up into his armpits to keep them warm.

“Why did you come out here?” Eddie asked.

“Because you’re an idiot.” Richie replied. “You shouldn’t have given me that record.”

“I didn’t want it.”

“Then you should have sold it.”

“I didn’t want to sell it.” Eddie said, “You deserve it more than me.”

“And you deserve the money.” Richie said, “Look at me. I’m a rich bastard, and you’re an insurance agent.”

“I don’t want to sell it.” Eddie said, “I wanted it to be a gift.”

“To woo me?” Richie asked, and his lips quirked upwards.

“No.” Eddie said, a little flushed. “I just wanted to apologise. I wasn’t a very good person.”

“Are any of us good people?” Richie asked. Eddie considered this for a moment.

“I suppose not.” He said.

There was a silence, apart from the roar of the rain on their heads. Richie looked up at the sky, as if it was going to give him an answer to some question that Eddie didn’t know. Eddie wanted to ask if he was okay, why he had come after him. He wanted to ask if Richie hated him.

“Why did you come to Derry?” Richie said, looking at him.

“I wanted my grandmother’s engagement ring.” Eddie replied truthfully.

“Why?”

“I wanted to propose to Myra with it.” Eddie said, and then, “I thought it was right.”

“You don’t want to propose to her?”

“I-“ Eddie started, and then rethought his words. “I wanted to stay in the closet and pretend. But then I met you. And I think I would rather be with men for the rest of my life, than with a woman.”

“I made you realise you were gay?” Richie asked, and Eddie shook his head.

“You made me realise that sometime there are beautiful men who make living worthwhile.” He replied, and Richie’s face turned the colour of his hair.

“Shit.” He said, “Spaghetti man that’s a big thing to say to someone.”

“It’s true.” Eddie shrugged, and then looked down at his feet. “I don’t know. You just make me feel things.”

Richie laughed at that, and then stopped. “I think I was mean to you.” He said, “And I shouldn’t have been.”

“I understand why you were angry with me.” Eddie said, “I’d be angry with me.”

“I was very angry with you.” Richie said, “But now, not so much. Must be your charming and extroverted exterior.”

Eddie looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, and Richie laughed. “Kidding.”

“I was going to say.” Eddie said. “I’m neither of those things.”

“You’re very charming.” Richie said, “I’d take you home to mother.”

“I wouldn’t take you home.” Eddie said, and then realised exactly what he had said, and flushed. “I wouldn’t- Sorry.”

Richie laughed again. “I forgive you.”

“Thank you.” Eddie said, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise again.” Richie said, and Eddie shook his head, because he did. If it meant having Richie back as a friend, not even a lover, he would go down on his knees and beg for forgiveness, he craved it so badly.

“I do.” He said simply, “I have to.”

Richie punched him on the side lightly. “You’re an idiot.” He told him, and Eddie smiled in agreement.

“Myra’s out of the picture then?” Richie asked, and Eddie nodded.

“We’ve broken up. For good. No matter what she says.”

“And your mom?”

Eddie shrugged. “She knows I’m gay. She’s working on accepting it, I think.”

“Okay.” Richie said, and nodded his head. “Okay.”

He suddenly seemed to realise it was raining and held his hands up over Eddie’s head. “Do you want to go back inside?”

“Please.” Eddie said, and they turned back around and started to walk towards the house. “Do you hate me?”

Richie shook his head. “I could never hate you Eddie Spaghetti.” He said, and Eddie leaned against him.

“Thank you Trashmouth.” He said, and they continued back to the house in silence, their fingers brushing against each other as they walked.

 

**Author's Note:**

> comment and eddie will realise that being gay is okay


End file.
